


Cherry Bomb

by Cate Shaw (Bluebell84)



Category: Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: Childhood Friends, Christmastime, F/M, Fluff, Ireland, Irish, Smut, Ugly Duckling, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebell84/pseuds/Cate%20Shaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long, long time ago, when I was a chubby and unwanted teenaged girl there was this one guy I had a crush on.    We hooked up but it was a one time thing.  I went away to college and he went on to become a movie star.  Now, in my thirties, Michael Fassbender walks back into my life.  But not that I care.  Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Unwelcome Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [circa1927](https://archiveofourown.org/users/circa1927/gifts).



[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2najn14)  


Dragging my suitcase through the freshly fallen snow along the hidden cobblestone path leading to the front door of my grandmother's house, I cursed under my breath. Of course my mother would forget I was coming. Of course no one would be waiting at the airport. Why, on Christmas Eve, would anything be different? In the past seventeen years, my mother had received me at the airport only a handful of times. Seventeen years of summer vacations and every other winter break from the northwestern suburbs of Chicago, Illinois to good ol' Killarney, Ireland.

Waiting for the taxi to drive out of sight, I pushed my knitted winter hat up off my forehead. It was too big, another masterpiece creation to add to the pile of things knitted by my half blind grandmother. But I knew it would make her happy, to see it on me. Then I would never have to wear it again. I could hear muffled music from inside the house and knew it would be a full house like every Christmastime. Family friends of my grandparents always spent their Christmases with them. Maybe this year no one would pinch my cheeks and tell me about how "yeh high" I was last time they saw me.

Once the taxi disappeared, I fisted my hand and rapped on the door with the back of my knuckles. Almost immediately the door opened and a wave of warmth washed over my face. The music grew louder and several people inside let out boisterous laughs, probably from the same joke Uncle Geoff told every damn year.

"Francis? I thought you spent last Christmas with us?" A tall woman with salt and pepper hair, hands on her hips and a necklace too large for her thin stature stood eyeing me. My mother, ladies and gentlemen.

Several people within earshot grew silent and turned toward the door. I felt like an outsider intruding on their very private party. "Uh, no mother." I stood there, waiting for any sort of welcome, any at all. A smile, a wave of a hand, a "oh do come in dear, it's too bloody cold to be dawdling around out there" but no. "Maybe I should have called," I dropped my head, feeling defeated. My mother sure did get me worked up but when it came time to face her, I suppressed my feelings and turned into a coward.

"I could have sworn you were here last year." Still, my mother stood in the doorframe, keeping me out in the cold.

"No," I said flat out. "Last Christmas I stayed with Dad because of my knee. This year it's your turn, you lucky duck." I stepped up to the threshold and gently pushed past her, my suitcase thumping harshly against the wooden floor. Now everyone was turned in our direction.

Glancing around, I recognized everyone's faces frowning at me. It's as if no one realized who I was. I let my suitcase drop completely and shed my bulky white coat. Ignoring the stares, I placed my coat on the coat rack in the foyer, my mother still scratching her head trying to remember the last time she saw me as she closed the door.

"Francis?" My grandfather appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a big smile on his face. Finally, a sign of friendliness. "My Frank-n-beans?! What on earth happened to you?" He closed the distance between us and took me into his arms. It was nice feeling them around me completely, something that hasn't happened since I was a child.

Though the big band music still flooded the air, I could hear the others. "That's Frankie?"

Let me backtrack a bit. I used to be big. Like, really big. I've struggled with weight my entire life. I was always a chunky kid but once my parents decided to split, I often comforted myself with junk. It wasn't until I broke my knee and had some extensive physical therapy that I began to lose weight. The weight loss inspired other changes in my life and I began to see a therapist for my emotional problems instead of trying to manage them on my own. Lord knows I still have a long way to go, but I'm happy. I can finally say that now. I'm happy and it can only get better from here on.

Realizing who I was, everyone began crowding around us. "Wow Frankie, how long has it been!" "Frankie, what did you do?" "Have you been on that tapeworm diet? I thought that was illegal?"

"Guys, guys, let's give Frankie some room," I heard my grandmother shout over the commotion. Bless her. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the large group of distant family and family friends made way for my frail grandmother. But don't ever call her that to her face. She puts on airs. Always lavishly dressed to the nines, you'd never know she was ninety-two years old. It probably helps having a husband nearly twenty years her junior.

She took me into her arms and planted a firm kiss to my cheek. I knew I would have to scrub my face to the bone to wash off the lip print her red lips left behind, but for now, I'll leave it be. "Like my hat?" I pointed to the knitted mess upon my head and beamed.

"Ah, alannah, you're wearing it! You must be knackered." She took my suitcase and handed it off to my uncle who knew better than to question her and took it straight up stairs to my bedroom. "Go on up and freshen up. The party'll still be here when you're ready to come back down!" She waved me off and danced back towards the kitchen where I knew was a full bar. Thank God for that.

Several eyes were still on me trying to make sense of my transformation as I began to ascend the the stairs. I found my uncle at the top about to head back down.

"How are ye, Bean? Yer mum is quite gobsmacked, y'know!" He laughed as I shrugged.

"What else is new." He frowned and pat my shoulder before making his way back to the party.

I found my room and shut the door. I yank off my hat and toss it to the bed. My grandparents let me decorate my own room when I first started coming here. Posters of U2 and NSync adorned the flowery papered walls. I cringed as I threw myself back on the bed. I don't know why I still come here. My mother has shown zero interest in maintaining any kind of relationship with me. I love my grandparents; they make the trips out here worth it. But I'm going on thirty-four. Do I need to still feel obligated to spend summers and Christmases out here like a child? Maybe if I had some roots I would be able to find a man. Years of blind dates and being told "you're a great girl, just not what I'm looking for" isn't really how a girl wants to live her life.

To kill time before joining the party, I decide to unpack. At least there's one portion of my chaotic life I can control after all. I kick my boots off under the bed and put away my clothes. I try not to bring much when I'm here because I know when it comes time to leave, the quicker I pack, the better. I'm hanging up the dress I brought for New Years when I hear a loud ruckus from downstairs. Apparently someone very popular just showed up. Everyone is hooting and hollering. Quite the opposite of my welcome, or lack thereof. I sigh and frown. I bet it's my cousin Raegan. Around these parts, she's Little Miss Perfect and can do no wrong, even though she's divorced. I used to look up to her until one day I overheard her making fun of my weight behind her back. I take a deep breath and make my way back to the party.

Laughter grows as I descend slowly down the steps, trying not to attract attention. I hear my mom's unmistakable cackle. I go the opposite direction to avoid her. As I round the stair case, I stop in my tracks and do a one-eighty and pray I'm not spotted as I duck out of sight.

Fuck fuck fuck.

HE is here. A guy I never thought I would see again. It's been years since I've seen him and I find myself thinking about when I last saw him as I suddenly show serious interest in the Christmas tree. I see his reflection in the baubles and my heart nearly stops when he smiles. He's talking with a small group of family friends whom I barely know. That smile though, that smile I know all too well.

Last time I saw it in person, he was slipping out of my bedroom with a wink. As I stare into the silver ornament I realize I still have my grandmother's red lipstick painted on my cheek. Furiously I scrub at it until I hear my uncle say my name and I nearly jump out of my skin. I throw my arms up and knock several ornaments off the tree which fall and shatter around my feet. I take a step back in surprise and of course, slice my foot on a shard of the thin glass.

"Mother of pearl!" I cry out and hop back on one foot. I would give anything to disappear on the spot when I feel two large hands wrap themselves around my midsection. I smell him before I see him. Is it possible for someone to smell exactly like they did almost twenty years ago?

He lifts me up off my feet, one arm behind my back, the other under my knees. I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck and bite my lip, trying not to cry, but fail. I drop my forehead to his chest and feel tears burning a path down my cheeks. I wish he'd put me down. I don't want to hear the embarrassing groans as he tries to support my weight. If he is struggling, he doesn't show it.

"Oh dear," I hear someone say.

My grandmother directs him upstairs to the guest bathroom where she keeps the first aid kit. I keep my face buried in his chest. I'm beyond embarrassed right now. He climbs the stairs, taking two at a time, the long legged bastard. Using his shoulder he nudges open the bathroom door and places me on the counter next to the sink.

"Hang tight, love," he says, looking through the bathroom closet for the kit. "We'll get you fixed up soon."

My bloody (literally) foot hangs over the side, above the toilet and I keep my hands on my face, covering my eyes. I hope he thinks it's because I'm crying and not because I don't want to see him. The water from the sink runs for a minute and then I feel a wet but warm cloth press against my swollen heel. I peek through my fingers and he's knelt down before me, nursing my poor foot. I watch him concentrate on my cut. My eyes trace his strong square jaw peppered with ginger stubble and flow up to his gorgeous thin lips, pursed in concentration. His eyes shoot to mine and I yelp.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" He laughs lightly.

I shake my head but say, "a little."

I place my hands in my lap. No sense in hiding anymore.

From downstairs, someone shouts up, "How's Frankie, Michael?"

He looks up at me as realization hits him and coyly smiles. "She'll live," he shouts back down. He turns his attention back to me. I avoid his gaze. Oh look, grandma changed the shower curtain.

"Frankie? I hardly recognize you." I can hear the smile he no doubt has plastered on his smug face.

"Yeah, well, it's been what, fifteen years?"

He thinks for a minute as he finishes up my foot. With a gentle pat on the top of my foot, he lets me know he's done. "Seventeen, actually."

I observe his work, impressed with his bandaging skills. "Am I going to need stitches?"

"I shouldn't think so. It's not that deep of a cut." I look up as he rises to his full height. God, he's filled out nicely. He's always been on the muscular side, but the years have certainly been kind to him. He's gone from hunky teen to rugged ovary destroyer.

We stare at each other for a minute before he speaks again. "It's good to see you again, Frankie."

My heart explodes, or at least that's how it feels. If I could, I would melt into the sink and slither down the drain. This gorgeous man before me is who I lost my virginity to at seventeen. Years later and I still find it hard to believe that Michael Fassbender popped my cherry. Crude, I know. But fun to say. And yes. THE Michael Fassbender.


	2. Raegan

I refused to let Michael carry me back downstairs and he refused to let me spend the rest of the evening alone in my room so we met in the middle and I hobbled my way back downstairs on my own. He walked in front of me with a hand out to help if I needed it.

He grabs my elbow and helps me to the couch where someone gets up to give me room. I hate the attention. I hate being fussed over. Now just leave me here and go get a beer.

The shattered ornaments have been swept up and my grandmother is arranging the surviving ones to cover the bare spot on the tree where the dead ones once resided. She glances over and smiles with a wink as she sees Michael. Oh dear god.

Michael clears his throat. "Can I get you anything? A drink? Some cookies?"

I shake my head. "No, really, I'm fine. Thank you. You don't have to babysit me," I attempt to smile sweetly so I don't come off as bitchy.

He cocks his head like he wants to say something but thinks better of it and gives me a curt smile before leaving my side. Instantly I wish I'd agreed to a drink. Then he would come back. God, what am I saying. No. He needs to stay away.

I'm sitting there with a fake smile plastered across my face, trying to get into the holiday spirit when the front door is thrown open and a gust of cold wind from outside flips my hair completely over my face. Everyone cheers and shouts holiday greetings to the new guest and as I impatiently pat my hair back down, I see it's Raegan with a man I'd never seen before behind her with a stack of beautifully wrapped gifts. We haven't exchanged gifts since I turned 21 so immediately my heart sinks when I realize there are gifts under the tree as well.

Before I can internally panic any more, I notice Michael as he sees Raegan and I watch their exchange. Raegan's smile drops and she gives him a nod. What Michael does makes me snicker quietly. He clicks his heels together once and salutes her before rolling his eyes and leaving the room. Ooh. Drama.

I watch as Michael walks away and he gives me a little smile before disappearing. I bring my eyes back to Raegan and see her looking directly at me in confusion. I drop my eyes and study my nails. My poor neglected cuticles. Still, Raegan stalks over, her servant man trailing right behind.

"Frankie, is that you? Weren't you here last year?" Raegan unwinds her scarf from around her neck and tosses it to the man. He wobbles trying to get ahold of it while balancing the presents.

Out of politeness, I push myself up off the couch, taking care to keep my weight off my bandaged foot. I give her a half hug, only one arm around her, as she keeps her hands to herself. "Hi Rae. Good to see you. Actually I had to skip last Christmas because I broke my knee and couldn't really travel. Who's your friend?" I motion to her companion and Raegan takes a second to acknowledge his presence.

"Oh, this is my fiancé Carl. Carl, this is my cousin Frankie. She's American, too."

I smile as poor Carl as he tries to stick out a hand for a handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Frankie!" He's sweet. What on earth is he doing with Raegan?

"Can I take some of these off your hands for you?" I grab several presents and move around Raegan to place them under the tree. She follows me with her piercing green eyes.

Raegan used to be beautiful. A real stunner. Girls wanted to be her friend and guys wanted to date her. From the outside, she's the total package. Her thick red mane cascades down her back in graceful layers with wispy fringe above her eyes. Her naturally red lips make her green eyes pop even more. Like I said, stunner. It isn't until you get to know her that you realize she's actually quite ugly. Her personality leaves a lot to be desired. She's a fake. One minute she's singing praises to your face, the next she's making fun of you behind your back. She gets off on being a gossip queen. This leaves me wondering just how long Carl has known her for. I place the packages at the base of the Christmas tree and turn to Carl to take the rest.

Raegan has stalked off to hang up her coat and mingle with a more appreciative crowd. "So, Carl," I start, "how long have you and Rae been together?"

Carl hands me the last present and begins to shed his own coat and scarf. "Going on five months. Five glorious and perfect months," he smiles. I can't help but smile with him. Poor sap. He really has no idea what he's gotten himself into.

"Five? Wow, that was..."

"Quick, I know. But I couldn't let her get away. I'm head over heels, Frankie." Carl leaves to scout out his future bride and once again I'm left alone. I decide to get a drink so I hobble toward the kitchen in the back. Of course Michael is back there downing what's left of his beer. He sees me enter and raises his eyebrows with a smile.

"How's the foot?" He asks.

I shrug. "It stings, but it's fine. Toss me a beer, please?"

"Wouldn't you prefer something a bit stronger?" Without waiting for a reply, he makes me up a double shot of whiskey. I take it from him, my brain going crazy. Is he doing this on purpose? Surely he remembers the last time he made me a double shot of whiskey, he got into my pants... He pours himself one as well and knocks his glass to mine.

"Sláinte," he smiles and we throw back our drinks.

We can hear Raegan in the other room telling the story of how Carl proposed. It must have been fairly recent if not everyone knows yet. Unless she's just down right bragging, as usual. Michael leans against the counter, his big hands wrapped around his glass. As he stares off into the other room, I take the opportunity to study his aged face.

He's certainly turned into a beautiful man. I've always had a thing for his nose. It's a boop-able nose. And his eyes, the way they change from blue to grey. His long lashes frame them perfectly. His eyes are the most feminine thing about him. Everything else is 100% man. I see him sigh and look into his glass, finding it empty. He pours himself more whiskey and asks if I'd like another. I decline but thank him.

He looks sad. I know he and Raegan were an item for a while when I was in college, but it didn't last long. Still, I'm sure it stings for him to see her again. And engaged. I feel sorry for him and decide to distract him. But before I can ask him about how Hollywood has been treating him, in walks Raegan with her arm around my mother.

She stops in her tracks and without taking her eyes off Michael, asks, to no one in particular, "What the feck is he doing here."

Now, remember she already knew he was here. This is typical Raegan. Waiting for the opportune moment to be dramatic.

My mom sighs dramatically and rubs a hand on Raegan's arm. "It's Christmas! The Fassbenders always come over, love. You know this. Michael, be a dear and grab a towel. Geoff made a mess of his drink." Michael reaches back and snatches the hand towel draped over the faucet in the sink and hands it to her. "Now that Raegan is finally here, we can do gifts!" She claps and shoos Raegan out of the kitchen, thankfully.

Michael turns to me and his eyes are dark. He's clinching his jaw but he gives me a tight lipped smile. "Sit with me?" He asks. I melt. I nod quickly and we both join the rest of the entire clan by the Christmas tree.

Michael makes sure I'm seated on the sofa and he sits on the floor against the arm, allowing my sore foot to rest on his knee just off the ground. It feels strange considering it's been years since I've seen him, but he's still as kind and generous as always. I look around and see everyone, wondering what we're waiting for when I realize Raegan is missing. Always waiting on Raegan. Can't do anything without Raegan around.

Carl plops down next to me, I'm assuming because I'm the only other person he kind of knows. I wonder if Raegan has even introduced him to anyone else. We exchange smiles and Raegan comes out dancing in a sexy Santa outfit. Yes, you read that correctly. Sexy. Santa. Outfit. It's a red sequined bikini top with a red velvet skirt lined with fluffy white fur along the bottom. Of course she pairs this cringeworthy, completely family-gathering-inappropriate outfit with black fishnet stockings and patent black leather stilettos. My jaw drops and I see Michael's hit the floor as well. He recovers quicker than I do. Carl shifts uncomfortably next to me. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

"Ho, ho, ho," Raegen giggles loudly. Ho ho ho, indeed. I snicker to myself.

Raegan prances around the tree all holly and jolly, picking up presents, reading their labels and finding their owners. I keep waiting for her ankles to snap in half, but she's a professional. I try hard not to look at the faces of all the men in the room. None of the women seem bothered by this at all. Everyone is laughing and still chattering away cheerfully until all the gifts have been handed out. Carl has a stack of three, Michael has two, one from my grandparents and one from his own parents. I have zero.

And of course Raegan notices. "Oh dear, nothing for Frank-n-beans? I didn't notice anything from you, either. That's a bit rude, Frankie."

My face flushes. "I didn't know we were doing gifts," I look around for some sort of explanation.

Raegan frowns. "We did the same thing last year, silly."

Now everyone is quiet and looking at me. My anxiety is nearly through the roof at this point. "For the last time, I wasn't here last year!" I shout. I stand, accidentally knocking Carl's gifts off his lap. Michael clambers to his knees and grabs my elbow before I topple over. I snatch my arm out of his grasp. "Stop helping. I'm fine!" I regret snapping at him the moment the words leave my lips, seeing the look of surprise on his face.

I hobble as quickly as one can possibly hobble out of the main room and back to the kitchen. Whiskey is calling my name. I hear Raegan say something about how uncalled for my actions are. I'm embarrassed. Possibly for the tenth time this evening so far. My hand shakes as I attempt to pour the whiskey and some of it splashes on the counter.

"Whoa now," Michael's hand comes out from behind me, grabbing onto mine, steadying the bottle. "You're wasting liquid gold, love. Take it easy."

I slam the bottle down and turn around, trapped between the sink and Michael. He frowns, looking down and into my eyes. God, he's gorgeous. That stubble would feel real nice against my... erm. Never mind.

I can't put into words my frustration. Michael smiles as I animatedly moan and groan, my fists up against my cheeks, baring my teeth and clenching my jaw. I growl one last time before I drop my forehead to his chest in exhaustion. His chest shakes with the laughter he fails to hold back.

"Why the hell am I here." It's a question not meant to be answered, but Michael runs a hand through my hair, sending chills down my spine. I feel my skin prick with goosebumps.

"I, for one, am mighty glad you're here, Frankie. I had no idea Raegan was going to be here. I asked Mum if the O'Conner's granddaughter would be here and she said no. Now I'm thinking she meant you, not Rae."

I lean back against the counter, providing some space between us, but Michael inches closer, one arm planted on the counter next to me, keeping me in place. "I still don't get why you ever dated her in the first place. I always thought you were smart." I look up at him through my lashes and coyly smile.

He smirks, acknowledging my playful jab. "We can't all be beauty and brains."

I blush. He's sweet. The chatter in the other room gets louder as people begin laughing and thanking each other for their gifts. I sigh deeply and chew my lip. I feel Michael's arm next to me stiffen.

"Frankie?" His voice deepens and I know he's about to say something serious.

"Hmm," I answer, looking at him.

He looks up and I follow his gaze. Mistletoe hanging over the window above the sink. Of course. I glare at him.

"Did you know that was there?" I ask him.

He shrugs with a tiny hint of a smile before letting out a boisterous laugh. The jerk. He certainly did know that was there. I can't help but smile. His laugh is infectious. He sighs and slowly brings his face closer to mine. I turn, letting his lips brush against my cheek. He lingers there, his scruff grazing the sensitive skin across my jaw. It takes everything in my power to not turn my face and let my lips meet his.

When he seems to get the gist, that this is as good as it's going to get under the mistletoe, he stands up straight. His eyes are smiling, something about him I've always loved. "Really, Frankie. I'm glad you're here."


	3. Breakfast

For the remainder of the evening, I was sure to steer clear of the damn mistletoe and avoided Michael at all costs. I felt so confused. On one hand, it’s fantastic to see him again. And to get along as well as we always have, almost like no time has been lost. On the other hand, he’s an ex-lover (does that count if it’s only been once?) and a whole bunch of old feelings have risen to the surface in the short amount of time I’ve stepped foot on Irish soil today. The years have been oh, so kind to him. Why isn’t he fat and balding? He should be fat and balding! It would make my life so much easier, dammit.

Hours later, most of the party guests have left, save for those staying overnight in the guest bedrooms, as well as Michael and his family. I constantly feel his eyes on me, even when we aren’t in the same room. And I like it. I feel on alert. All over. My skin is kind of, I don’t know, humming. Or maybe that’s the whiskey. Yeah, it’s probably the whiskey. Whisky mixed with lust.

Uncle Geoffrey had been making the rounds, never leaving anyone with an empty glass. I’m not much of a drinker, but hey. It’s Christmas. And I’m single. And horny. I don’t know why that’s a good excuse, but we’ll just say it is. I slip away to the bathroom, which I know is a terrible idea, because once you open the floodgates, you’re in the bathroom every ten minutes. But I’ve held it long enough. When I come back out, Michael is waiting for me with the ugliest scarf I’ve ever seen wrapped around his neck.

“Good god, what died around your neck?” I laugh.

Michael puts a finger up against his lip, laughing with me. “Shh! Your grandmother made this. Don’t I make it look good?”

I’m gone. Completely plastered. “Pfffttt!” I snort and tug on one of the ends of the scarf. “Yes, it’s fabulous. Is this what you received tonight?”

He nods and back against the wall, hands behind him. He looks so innocent but lord knows he’s not. I follow his lead and lean against the opposite wall, arms across my chest.

“Are you having a better night?” he asks.

I sigh and nod. “I’ve had worse, we’ll just say that.”

He smirks. “My folks are about to leave.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stares at me. I stare at him. I can tell he’s trying to read me.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” I finally ask.

His face lights up and he gives me a huge grin. “My first Christmas back in years and you think there’s a chance I’m going to miss out on your grandma’s Christmas breakfast? Not a chance, love. Yes, I’ll be back.”

Oh shit. Breakfast. At breakfast time. Also known as ‘hangover time’ to those who partake in copious amounts of whiskey the evening before. Great. I feel sick to my stomach suddenly. Maybe everyone will just forget I was here and I can sleep the entire day away.

“Save me a seat.” And with that, he pushes off the wall, unwraps his scarf and drapes it around my neck. “Hmm. Looks so much better on you."

Oh sweet swaddled baby Jesus in the manger. It already smells like him. I tell myself I’m not sleeping with it. I’m not sleeping with it. I will NOT snuggle with it or sleep with it.

But I totally do. And I wake up in a pool of drool to loud obnoxious banging noises downstairs as my grandmother and others prepare the big traditional O’Conner Christmas breakfast. My head pounds, my brain threatening to explode. As hard as I try, there's no going back to sleep. I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes, yawning until the corners of my mouth feel they could rip. I grab my toiletries and some clothes and stagger into the hallway and see the guest bathroom is occupied so I lean against the wall and wait.

The door opens and steam from a hot shower escapes. Out steps Carl and Rae. I stand up straight and give them a polite smile and wish them a Happy Christmas.

"Oh, yes, Merry Christmas, Frankie," Carl smiles. His hair is wet and slicked back and he's wearing a red and green knit sweater. Obviously Grandmother's handiwork.

"Mm, Happy Christmas Beanpole." Raegan snickers. She has a blue towel wrapped around her head and it makes me think of Marge Simpson.

Not even 7 a.m. and already, a jab from Raegan. "You know, considering I've lost some weight, 'Beanpole' isn't much of an ironic nickname anymore, Rae-bans."

"'Rae-bans'? Really? That's what you've got?" Rae laughs and pushes past me, linking her arm with Carl. They head into their guest bedroom and Rae closes the door a little harder than necessary.

I follow suit and lock myself into the bathroom.

An hour later, I'm downstairs with a strong cup of coffee, feeling proud of myself for not being as hungover as I thought I'd be. I took my time getting ready, knowing I'd be seeing Michael again. I even curled my hair, something I never do. Being a nosy Parker, I went through the bathroom closet and found a neglected curling iron and decided to put it to good use. I didn't look too shabby. My cheeks are a little pink with blush and I applied some mascara to look more awake.

I ignore everyone, smiling and nodding when necessary. I look out the window every two minutes, just to, you know, see how the weather is doing. I jump when my grandmother puts her arm around my waist.

"Don't worry, he'll be here."

"Hmm? Who?" I let go of the curtain, caught red-handed.

She smirks and pats my back. "I'm glad you're here, sunshine. Happy Christmas." And with that, she plants a tender kiss to my forehead and leaves me to the hot man scouting.

Finally, I spot him and his family making their way up the slushed up path to the door. I put my hand on my hip. My lame-ass attempt at appearing normal and like I wasn't just looking for him. I alternate hands on my hips. Then put both on my hips. Then cross my arms. It's no use. How do you 'normal'? Before I can figure out a natural way to stand, the front door opens and I feel my lips begin to spread into a massive smile, all on their own. Apparently my lips have missed him too. My reaction embarrasses me so I quickly rush out of the room and into the kitchen to appear busy before he sees me. 

Christmas greetings are shared, and loudly so. Footfalls descend the stair case. I can tell it's Raegan. No one else in their right mind would be wearing high heels for breakfast on Christmas morning. I'm sure even the Queen is celebrating in her pajamas and slippers.

"Good morning, ladies!" Michael enters the kitchen. Everyone fusses over him as I furiously scrub a pan in the sink. I look up and give him a little smile. He looks gorgeous with a crisp pair of blue jeans and a thin dark green knit sweater. He gives me a smile and a nod, holding up a festive gift bag, implying it's for me. I cock my head to the side as I dry off my hands. He signals for me to follow him as everyone else bustles around us, getting all the food to the table.

I follow behind him and we head upstairs. Neither of us say a word until he reaches my room and raises his eyebrows, looking for permission to enter. I nod and he opens the door. I step in after him and have a bit of a flashback of the last time he was in here. I feel my cheeks heat up when I realize he's looking at me.

"What's up?" I ask. 

He holds out the gift bag and I take it. "Happy Christmas."

"Oh, Michael, you didn't have to!" My heart is threatening to break out of my rib cage.

He shrugs. "I know, but I wanted to. Open it."

I smile as I yank out the sparkly tissue paper and reach into the bag. I pull out a small sketchbook and a handful of sharpie markers.

"I wasn't sure if you still doodled or not," Michael reached up and scratched the back of his head. I laughed with utter joy, tears blurring my vision. I blinked them away and see Michael's worried face. "Have I, uh, upset you?"

I shake my head and laugh again. "No, no, not at all. Quite the opposite. Thank you, Michael. These are great! Really. Sorry, I don't mean to be all emotional."

I can't believe I'm crying in front of him right now. But can you blame me? I show up practically unwanted, receive zero gifts (or give any) because of miscommunication and just feel all around not welcome here. And here is Michael, with a thoughtful gift for me on Christmas morning. A gift he obviously got at the last minute considering he had no idea I would even be here this year.

"Don't apologize, Bean, really. I understand."

I drop the markers and the sketchbook back in the bag and stuff the tissue paper back in. "Thank you. I appreciate the gift but I don't need your pity. And I mean that in the nicest way possible."

Michael's mouth drops. "Wait, what?"

"The gift. The pity gift because I didn't get anything for Christmas," I frown at him. I know I'm coming off bitchy but I don't know how else to signify that I don't need his help.

"I didn't get you a gift out of pity, Frankie. I got you a gift because I haven't seen you in years and I've missed you. And, oh yeah! Because it's fucking Christmas!"

Well, that backfired.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I just thought...," I can't even complete my train of thought. I have no idea what to say. I feel terrible for offending him. "Really, Michael, I'm sorry. I love it, I do. God. Can we... can we start over? Seriously, here..." I take his hand and pull him with me out to the hall and shut the door. I hand him back the bag.

"Okay, go." I urge him to enter my room again. He gives me a sideward glance with a small smile before opening the door and stepping in again. I follow him in, all smiles.

He turns and looks at me, not saying anything. "What's this?" I ask, pointing to the bag.

Michael snickers and hands it to me. "Happy Christmas, Bean."

"Oh, thank you ever so," I beam. I rip out the tissue paper and gasp. "Oh, oh Michael. Thank you. Thank you, thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

"Okay, okay, that's enough. Thanks." Michael crosses his arms and smirks.

I hug the bag to my chest and smile. "Really, though. Thank you. I'll put them to good use."

We stand there, eyes looking everywhere but each other until the silence is unbearable. I move around Michael and kneel down next to my bed. "I found this last night," I reached underneath and pulled out a large shoebox and plopped it on the bed. Standing, I placed my present next to it as I pulled off the lid. "All the drawings I've done over the years coming here." 

Michael smiles as he pulls a few out, observing them. One by one, we smile at them and he gives me compliments. Most of it is scenery until he gets to an old photograph and I gasp. I reach out to snatch it from the pile and he laughs, holding it up high.

"What on earth is this?!" Michael laughs, holding up a headshot of Raegan when she first decided she wanted to pursue acting. I had... taken liberties... with the photograph... My rather gorgeous cousin donned a sinister black mustache and goatee, fangs, dark, thick eyebrows, a pitchfork and a devil's tail.

I jump up and grab the picture. "You better not say anything about this."

"Never. But I have to say, that's my favorite one. Nice job. You have potential."

I laugh and shove him gently with my shoulder as I put the drawings away.

We return back down to the kitchen and enter together, laughing. Raegan sits at the breakfast table next to Carl who appears to be a bit behind on sleep. Raegan gives me the stink eye as soon as I look at her. I look down and brush my hair behind my ear.

"Oh, there you are, Michael. I saved a seat for you." Raegan pats the only available seat to her left.

Michael ignores her completely and elbows me. "There's two over there," he says as he drags me by the hand to the opposite side of the long breakfast table.

Breakfast is, thankfully, not too eventful. I focus on eating and keeping my eyes in front of me instead of glancing every two seconds at Michael like I want to. Everyone chats with those around them but Michael and I don't utter another word to each other. Raegan tries to get a rise out of me by asking me about my love life. 

"I mean, you're still single? Never married?"

I nod as I swallow my bite. "Yeah, actually. I'd rather marry just once, so you could say I'm just waiting for the right guy."

Frankie: 1  
Raegan: 0

"But you must get so lonely," Raegan pouts. "No one there to keep you warm at night. No one to cook for. What do you do with all your free time?"

Frankie: 1  
Raegan: 3

I tense in my seat and grip my fork tightly. "I manage."

I swear I can feel steam escape my ears until I feel Michael's strong hand grip my thigh in reassurance. I steady my breathing and continue to finish my breakfast. Once I finish up my plate, I excuse myself, claiming I have a headache, which isn't entirely untrue. Hardly anyone bats an eye as I push away from the table. They're all too invested in their own conversations. Michael scoots his chair back and I stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't, Michael, you can't keep 'saving' me," I say quietly so only he and I can hear.

He stands anyway and turns to me. "I'm going to the bathroom, Bean."

"Oh."

"That alright?"

I roll my eyes and leave the table. Michael follows, even as we pass the bathroom in the hall. I wait until we are at the foot of the staircase before facing him again. I must have taken him by surprise because after I advance the first step, I immediately turn to him. I reach his height and we are practically nose to nose.

"Michael," I begin to scold him. "The bathroom is back that way."

"I like the one upstairs."

Pause.

"Are you following me to my room?"

Long pause.

His eyes smile. "Yes."

We stand there together for a moment before I turn back around and he follows me to my bedroom.

We hide away for a few hours, catching up. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, we swap stories about our jobs and friends and even previous relationships. Michael is surprised to learn that I was once engaged.

"Engaged? For how long?"

"Um, about two years."

Michael furrows his brow. "And what happened?"

I shrug. "I broke it off. To be honest, I felt like we were just going through the motions. Playing the parts expected of us, you know?"

Michael rubbed a hand over his scruff.

"Don't look so shocked, Michael. I can be loved!" I laugh at the expression on his face.

He laughs and shakes his head. "It's not that, it's just, I don't know. It's like I nearly lost you forever."

"Oh please." I push him over but he grabs my hand and pulls me down with him. 

"You think I'm kidding." Michael shakes his head.

"Obviously."

"Can I kiss you?"

My face heats up and my heart starts racing. It tends to do that a lot lately.

"Don't be a jerk," I finally reply.

Michael chuckles. "I'm not! I mean it, Frankie." He places his hand over mine, which is pressed against his chest, right over his heart. "Can I kiss you? For real this time?"

Something swells within my belly. I can feel his heartbeat beneath my palm. Or maybe it's my own. It's beating as fast as mine.

Using his elbow, he props himself up more and with his other arm, brings me up with him, against him. My leg, completely on it's own, semi-straddles his. I begin to lean in, finally, when someone loudly knocks on the door.

Michael groans and I slide off of him and stand quickly as Carl pokes his head in. "Hey there, gang. Raegan wanted me to round you guys up. We're about to start playing games."

'Gang'?

Michael snickers and I clear my throat to cover the sound. I like Carl, even if he obviously isn't all *there.

"Great, thanks Carl. Right behind you!"

Michael stands as Carl gives us a little wave and shuts the door. I smooth down my shirt, tugging on the bottom and run my fingers through my hair. I wonder what Carl is going to tell Raegan. Should I mess up my hair so it looks like we just had crazy sex? Nah.

Michael gently grabs my elbow and turns me to him. He touches his nose to mine. "To be continued," he grins.

I gulp hard as I watch him slip out of my room.


	4. The Gazebo

Michael licks his lips as I draw hump after hump on the white board. Carl and Uncle Geoff are the only ones on my team guessing what I'm trying to draw. Mom is chatting away with Adele, Michael's mom.

"My lovely lady lumps?" Carl doesn't sound too confident. I stop in mid apex and cock my head before shaking it no.

I draw one more hump before making a little furry looking creature... Fuck, are moles furry? I use the side of my palm to wipe away the little furry guy and try again. This time, Uncle Geoff shouts, "Humpty Dumpty!"

No.

I draw a rat-creature with large glasses and make a small hill next to it. I glance at the timer and panic, waving my hands, urging my team members to guess better.

Seriously, it's obviously 'making a mountain out of a molehill'!

Carl winces as he shouts, "Harry Potter!"

What?

The timer buzzes and my team groans.

"Mountain out of a molehill," Michael laughs. Raegan shrieks and high fives him when I nod. Another point for Raegan's team.

I love to draw but I cannot draw under pressure. I fucking hate this game. I hand over the marker to Michael, who is next up for his team. I sit next to Carl and he pats my hand. "You tried."

Sigh.

Michael fishes a piece of paper out of the bowl, reads it and smiles. He nods to Raegan who starts the timer.

I reach forward and grab a handful of cashews to munch while Michael draws. So far, there's... a cherry? No, an apple? He draws a little wiggle coming out of it. It's got to be an apple with a little worm. Okay, so apple... and now a circle...? With... eyelashes... eye! Apple of my eye! I hop in my seat, so wishing I was on Michael's team.

My grandmother is throwing out random words. "Cherry pie! Early bird gets the worm!"

Raegan jumps up, arms flailing. "Apple of my eye! Apple of my eye!"

"Yes!" Michael replaces the lid to the marker and takes a bow as his team claps and cheers. Raegan runs up and tackles him with a hug, which takes him by surprise. But being the sweetheart that he is, he gives her one in return.

Raegan pulls back, holding him by the arms. "We make such a good team!" She boops his boop-able nose, which for some reason really bothers me. I look at Carl to see how he reacts and apparently I'm the only one even paying attention. Carl is half asleep, sitting straight up.

I give poor Carl a slight nudge with my elbow. "You okay?"

He yawns and chuckles. "Rae kept me up all night. That plus the jet lag, it's killing me."

"Okay. That part about Rae? Didn't need to know that, but thanks."

Carl winks. "Aye, that's what all that noise was?" Uncle Geoff asks. "I thought someone weren't feeling the May West." He laughs and smacks my back. Uncle Geoff is the funniest guy Uncle Geoff knows.

"Huh? May West?" Carl looks to me for interpretation.

"He means 'ill.'" Great. Now I have these images and sound clips of Raegan thrashing around in my head. I shudder in disgust and excuse myself from the couch.

Raegan's team won and now I suppose someone will select a new game. I'll probably sit this one out and nurse some spiked eggnog out back. 

Outside, the gazebo looking over the man-made pond is decked out with white Christmas lights. I make a mental note to come back out when the sun sets to see it all lit up. It's gotten a little warmer since last night but it's still freezing. I like seeing my breath as I breathe. There's something magical about it. I hold my head back and let out one long breath, like a smoker after a long drag. I look back at the house and see everyone by the Christmas tree laughing. This time I literally am on the outside looking in.

Once inside the gazebo, I sit at the picnic table in the center and hunker down over my nog. I may be cold, but I'm alone and it's peacefully quiet. Because of the change in temperature, I can hear the ice across the pond crackle. 

The sound of crunching snow startles me and I sit up straight as Michael nears the gazebo. He's wearing a dark grey peacoat and I see he's carrying my coat in his arms. He smiles and comes up behind me, draping my coat over my shoulders.

"Are you stalking me?" I joke.

Michael slips next to me on the bench, straddling it. "Just keeping you warm. Sorry your team lost." He feigns a frown and laughs when he can't hold it. And this guy was nominated for an Academy Award?

I stick my tongue out at him but laugh. "You and Rae make a good team," I say, imitating Raegan's annoying voice.

He scoots closer and tugs on a strand of my hair, which bounces in place after he releases it. "I like this. Did you do it for me?" Yes.

"Pfft." I give him a glare but he knows. My cheeks are burning. He so knows. I do wish he would stop grinning like that, all wolfishly.

"Why'd you come out here, anyway?" His eyes are burning through me the way they do when he gives his undivided attention.

I shrug. "I felt cramped in there. And, well, Rae was getting on my nerves."

"Hmm. You still don't get along with her?"

"Is it that obvious?" I reply, dripping with sarcasm.

He gives me a playful glare. "You've got a mouth. Still."

For some reason, that makes my heart jump. He's turned his flirting way, way up. I swallow hard and try to smile. I wish I knew how to flirt back. When I don't say anything, his hand comes up again, this time tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Raegan has a mouth, too."

Michael frowns. "Okay?"

"It's embarrassing, watching her throw herself at you when her fiancé is in the same room."

"It is!" He laughs. "Poor Carl. I don't think he knows what he's in for."

"Whatever happened between the two of you? You and Rae, I mean."

"Long story short, I can't stand her. We had a good run, but I found out she's just not my type."

So stunning, thin, big boobed red heads aren't his type.

"But she's gorgeous," I say, matter-of-factly. 

"Yeah, she's attractive. But, Bean, I'm not shallow. I'm not all about looks. You know that."

I nod. He's not. He's right. When we first met, he was seeing a girl named Jane and when I met her, I was pleasantly surprised. She was, as Rae loved to call her, the Original Plain Jane. Don't get me wrong, she was a wonderful girl. Sweet and very funny. But she seemed, I don't know, too bookish. I felt terrible judging her based on appearance. I, of all people, know how that feels. Over my first summer here, I became close to Jane and I could see why Michael loved her. Sadly, Rae didn't give her the time of day. The next time I came back, I was sad to discover Jane had moved to Australia with her family. Michael was heartbroken and that's when we began hanging out more often, just the two of us.

I shiver as a gentle breeze brushes across the tabletop. "Want to go in?" Michael stands and holds out a hand. I smile and take it. It's not unusual, I suppose. But the lust in my gut is growing more and more. I quickly down the last sip of my nog and smile, licking my lips. I notice his eyes drop to them as I do so.

Note to self, lick lips more often.

In silence, we head back to the house. I slip back on a patch of ice and thank god Michael had my hand. He pulls me toward him and catches me by the elbows. We burst out laughing, our breath dancing together.

"I almost peed myself!" I laugh.

Michael throws his head back, laughing harder, as he hugs me to him. Both of my hands are against his chest, one clutching the handle of my cup. If I just stand on my toes, I could reach his lips when he's done laughing. But there's no need for that. He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me hard. One hand cups the back of my head, his fingers gently raking my scalp, sending extra shivers down my spine. His other hand, on my lower back, holds me to him. Our mouths open and our tongues meet once again. His stubble grazes my chin and I know I'll have a slight rash from it but I really don't give a shit right now. Oh god this is so good.

Michael loosens his grip against me and we pull our lips away from each other. Michael presses his forehead to mine and we smile. "You taste the same."

Oh lord. I swear my panties just dropped all the way to China.


	5. Goodbye

Finally, a day to sleep in. God bless Saint Stephen. I stretch lazily across my bed and snatch at my blankets before they slip off completely. I drag them back up and tuck them under my chin. My chin. Why does my chin hurt? I touch it gently and Michael's blue eyes appear in my head. Oh yes. I've been kissed good and hard by Michael Fassbender. Suddenly the stubble-burnt skin no longer hurts but serves as a reminder that someone out there has the hots for me. And now my cheeks are hurting from all this smiling. I turn to my side and snuggle up more. I don't plan to make an appearance until at least lunch time. Plenty of time to fantasize about Michael. I remember back to the last time he kissed me, seventeen years ago. When we said our goodbyes.

On my last night here for the summer, before college, Raegan, Shannen, her best friend at the time, Michael, and I are watching Basic Instinct. My grandparents and mother have all gone to bed hours before. The movie's big sex scene comes up and I unknowingly begin to squirm in my seat. Rae and Shannen are on the couch while Michael leans against it, sitting on the ground. I'm curled up in the recliner and feeling rather uncomfortable. I mean, this scene is pretty hot. I guess Rae notices I'm fidgeting and calls me out.

"Hey, Beanpole. You okay?" She giggles as she stuffs popcorn into her annoying gob of a mouth. Shannen snickers along with her.

All I do is nod. Michael brings his knees to his chest and hugs them, staring at me. "Bean, are you uncomfortable?"

I can feel my cheeks catching fire. I swallow hard and shake my head. "No, I just had a lot of water and I need to pee. I'll be back, no need to pause it." I hop out of my seat and rush off down the hall until I'm out of sight. 

I splash water on my face. I'm annoyingly embarrassed. Yes, I'm a virgin and yes, sex scenes like that tend to make me squirm because, hello, I'd like to experience that someday. I try to steady my breathing when I hear a rap on the bathroom door. I open it up a crack and peek. It's Michael.

"Why are you hiding?" He laughs, quietly. I open the door more, grab his hand and yank him in. I close the door and lock it behind me.

"Shh! The last thing I need is Rae gossiping," I put my ear to the door and listen.

"And sneaking me into the bathroom with you is the way to do it," he jokes.

"Shut up." I smack his arm but laugh. "I just needed a minute."

"Because?"

"If you tell, I swear I will hurt you."

Michael's lips curl up into a mischievous smile. He crosses his heart with his finger and his smile grows wider. "You're a virgin."

My jaw drops. I feel mad but at the same time, I'm relieved I didn't have to say it out loud. "How? How did you know?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Bean, but the way you were squirming in your seat? Kind of obvious."

"I was not squirming!" I said a bit too loud. I press my ear to the door again before repeating myself, softly this time. "I was not squirming."

Michael leans against the sink, a hand on either side of the counter, smirking. "It's okay, Bean. There's nothing wrong with being a virgin. And, you know, we could fix that. Right now, if you want..." He drops his chin and his eyes burn through me like he's a predator and I'm the prey. Lord have mercy.

"Oh god, stop it." I smack him again. He's making me violent lately with all his teasing. "I'm going back out now. Are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a minute," he says with a small smile. 

I stick my head out the door and see the coast is clear so I slip out and head back to my seat. Raegan and Shannen ignore me completely, eyes locked on the television. Almost a whole minute later, Michael joins us and sits on the love seat directly across from me. Thank god the sex scene is over with. But now I'm uncomfortable because I can feel Michael watching me.

"Hey Michael," Raegan talks over the movie. "Think you'll be doing sex scenes when you're famous?"

Embarrassed, Michael laughs and shakes his head. "I don't think so. I don't know. We'll see. I don't think I could handle my mom watching me in something like this."

Shannen giggles and elbows Rae to stop teasing him but it only encourages her. "Does your school have sex scene courses? Is that something you study? Sex 101?"

"Rae?" Michael turns to her with a kind smile.

"Yeah?"

"You're annoying."

Rae makes a face and Shannen giggles. Shannen doesn't say much. I think she's just around to make Rae look good.

After the movie, Rae and Shannen get up to leave. Michael excuses himself to the bathroom as I say my goodbyes to the girls.

"Have fun in school, Bean. You'll be back for Christmas, yeah? Or were you here last Christmas?"

"I was here last Christmas so it'll be a while before we see each other again. Thanks for hanging out tonight. Nice meeting you, Shannen." I close the door after one last wave and turn to pick up the popcorn mess the girls left behind.

Michael scares the ever loving shit out of me when I turn to take the bowl to the kitchen. He's leaning against the wall with his shoulder, watching. What a creep.

"Are you a ninja?! God, it's polite to announce yourself as you enter a room, Michael. You scared me!"

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I was just thinking."

"That's a first."

"Hey."

I bump him as I pass by toward the kitchen. He follows me and helps me with the trash. When everything is cleared up, I figure it's time to say goodbye. Michael is heading back to London while I head back to the states and start college. I'll miss him but this is nothing new. We'll see each other again at family gatherings eventually. This is how it's always been. We're strictly summer friends with the occasional Christmas. No matter how much time passes between my visits, we always pick right back off where we left. I never have to worry about that with him.

"Frankie?"

"Hmm?"

"I have a question. Please don't be mad," he places a hand over his heart as I give him a confused look.

"Okay..."

He lowers his voice even though we are the only ones awake at this time of night. "I was thinking, and please don't be embarrassed, but, gah. This is hard to put into words. Do you want to have sex?"

I'm taken aback and lean against the counter, my mouth open. "What? You mean, ever? Of course, I'm not planning on joining a nunnery, Michael."

"Heh, no, I mean... with... me?"

"What?! Ew, no!"

"Ew? Excuse me?" Michael looks hurt but smiles in surprise.

"Michael, stop. This is ridiculous."

His voice deepens. It's almost husky now. "Is it?" He steps closer. "You're starting school soon. College boys will be all over you, Bean."

I don't know whether to be mad or laugh in disgust. His face is serious though. No mischievous eyes this time. "Michael, what are you saying? Because you're starting to piss me off and I don't want to say goodbye to you with any anger between us."

"I'm saying, I want to be your first."

I gulp hard. "Why?"

"Your first time should be with someone you trust."

"You're... you're actually serious about this, aren't you..." I cross my arms under my breasts, out of habit, and quickly place my hands to my side when I see his eyes drop to my chest. Wow. He's serious.

He nods. My heart is pounding and my head is swimming. Of course I have a crush on Michael. Who wouldn't? But he's one of my best friends. Something like this could potentially destroy any kind of friendship between us. I need someone out here in Ireland to like having me around. I can't do this.

"I don't think I can do this," I blush.

"Bean. I'm not trying to pressure you. Of course you can say no."

What the fuck am I thinking. Michael is incredible and hot and I'm... well, I'm me. What if I never have sex? What if this is somehow my one and only chance to experience this? My hormonal teenage brain is racing and I feel sort of damp between my legs. Gross.

I chew my lip as I think. Michael stands before me with his hands in his pockets. I trust him. He's right about that. Oh god. Am I really doing this?

Looking down at my feet, I whisper. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

I nod, blushing profusely. "But I need a drink. Something to calm me a bit, first."

Michael knows where my grandmother stashes her liquor. He pulls out the whiskey and two shot glasses. Pouring one for me, then one for himself, we take a shot followed by another. It burns and I groan. I don't think I'll ever get used to the taste. "Liquid courage," he smiles. After one last shot, I feel warm all over.

It feels like an out of body experience following him upstairs to my guest bedroom. Is this really about to happen? I can no longer think straight. Yankee Doodle Dandy and something about macaroni. A feather in his cap? God, we are here. In my room. He's looking at me. He flips the light on and I reach out and switch it back off.

"Frankie," he laughs. "I want to see you, okay?"

Ugh.

"Uh. Okay."

"Here, I have an idea." He picks up a scarf of mine lying on the floor and places it over the lampshade before flipping the switch back on. The room isn't as bright now, which is more ideal for me, I suppose. "Better?" I nod slowly.

He takes a step toward me and I panic. I put my hands up, ensuring distance between us. "I don't- I don't know what to do," I admit.

Michael takes my hands. "Just do what feels right. Can I kiss you? We can start off kissing. That's usually how it starts anyway," his flashes a toothy grin.

I clear my throat and he closes the distance between us, placing a hand below my ear, cupping my jaw. The other snakes behind me, pulling me closer. He lowers his face until our breath mingles. "Are you sure about this?" He asks.

"Are you?" And with that, his lips meet mine, softly at first, then harder. 

I just stand there, my arms barely touching him, as if I'll wake up from this dream if I try to grasp him. But he hugs me tighter and my arms, on their own, rise and wrap themselves around his neck. He moans into my mouth and I feel his tongue asking for entrance. I smile, loving the feeling coursing through my body right now. His tongue caresses mine as our noses bump. He tastes amazing. Like, I don't know, like Michael. With a hint of whiskey. Maybe whiskey doesn't taste so bad after all.

Michael steps forward, taking me with him and we crash to my bed. Everything is so rushed and yet can't come fast enough. As of this moment, we are the only two people in existence. Just me and him. I feel heady and, well, horny I guess. I gasp when I feel him press against my sex. He's so hard already. He sits up and pulls his shirt off. The way he looks at me tells me it's my turn.

I sit up and grasp the hem of my shirt, pulling it up slowly. Once it's over my head, I hug it to my chest. "Frankie," Michael scolds. "Move your hands please. Let me see you."

Ugh. I toss my shirt to the floor and place my hands in my lap. If I'd known I would be losing my virginity tonight I might have worn something a bit nicer than my boring beige bra. I have a hard time meeting Michael's eyes, but when I do, I see his lips curl into a smile.

"You're so pretty, Frankie." He scoots closer and brings his lips back to mine. A hand cups my breast and gently squeezes. I laugh into Michael's mouth, caught off guard. He smiles against me and pushes me back to the bed. His large frame hovers over me as he peppers kisses down my jawline, throat, then the swell of my breasts. I hold my breath, taking in the feeling of his lips across my sensitive skin.

Michael's fingers delicately trail down to my stomach, which I am sucking in as much as possible. I have issues. He finds the clasp of my jeans and undoes them. I feel like I may pass out and then remember to take a breath. He hooks his fingers into my panties and pulls them down along with my jeans. Down by my feet, he slips each leg out, one at a time.

"Take your bra off," he says. "I want to see all of you."

With shaky hands, I quickly sit up and unclasp my bra and let it fall before tossing it to the pile of clothes growing on the floor. I place my head back down on my pillow as Michael absentmindedly caresses his lips, taking me all in. Here I am. All of me, completely bared to him. I'm so glad the light is dim.

"Spread your legs, Bean."

I shake my head. I feel wet down there. I should have gone to the bathroom first.

"Have you changed your mind?"

Again, I shake my head. Apparently I don't know what I want. "I, I think I have something... feminine... going on down there right now. I think I got my period."

He glares at me playfully. "No you didn't."

"Seriously, I feel wet."

Michael's eyes light up and his smile grows. "Good. You're supposed to. May I?" He lowers his hand to my sex and cups it. I gasp at the contact and squeeze my eyes shut. "Frankie, you're soaked," he growls. 

The way he says that makes my heart flutter but the words themselves make me cringe. "Oh god, I'm sorry!"

"No, Frankie, it's your arousal. Nothing to worry about. Just relax."

"Don't hurt me."

Michael climbs up over me until we are face to face again. "I promise, I won't. Ever. I want you to enjoy this. You trust me?"

I take a deep breath. "Yes."

Michael places a soft kiss against my lips and I feel his fingers down at my sex again. A rush of emotions crash through me at the mere touch. I lock eyes with him as his finger presses gently into me. He rubs it against my clit and my back arches. He doesn't take his eyes off mine. His fingers continue to explore. He pushes in more and he's inside me. He pumps slowly, in and out, coating his fingers with my arousal. I bite down on my lip and breathe heavily. Michael's eyes are hooded with lust. I imagine they match my own. His thumb circles over my clit and my hands grab Michael's back. Without meaning to, I claw at him, wanting more. His crashes his mouth to mine as his fingers pump faster.

I feel my knees begin to ache. They're shaking and I can't hold still. "M-Michael, please," I moan into his mouth.

He's panting and brings his fingers up to his lips and sucks away the juices from my arousal. Oh fuck. Why is that so hot? He hops off the bed and drops his jeans and boxers, stepping out of them. That thing is supposed to go inside me?! He fishes a little packet out of his wallet from inside his pants pocket and tears it open. Ah, a condom. Smart boy. He pinches the tip and rolls it down his member.

"Are you ready?" He straddles me, keeping his eyes on mine. I nod, biting my lip. I feel him line himself up with me and I brace for impact, hanging onto his biceps for support.

He pushes forward, slowly. I gasp at the way I stretch to accommodate his size. It feels strange. Weird. But at the same time, I like it. 

"Are you okay?" He kisses my forehead.

"Keep going," I gasp.

He laughs. "I'm all the way in, you jerk."

"Oh," I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. "I'm sorry, I'm not saying you're tiny! Not at all! I just, god. It's good. Please don't stop."

Michael's smile disappears and he pulls out slowly before pressing back in again. This time, I feel a slight discomfort. He picks up the pace and the minor pain subsides. My knees feel funny again. A noise escapes my mouth. It almost sounds animalistic.

"Oh fuck," Michael moans. He drops his face into the nook between my neck and shoulder. I wrap my legs around him, keeping him close.

"Don't stop," I beg him. He pushes himself up against his elbows for leverage. Kissing me, he brings himself into me harder and harder. The bed squeaks with each movement. I pray to God nobody wakes up. "Oh god, please don't stop!"

I feel something roil inside me. This feeling, is this an orgasm? It's like standing at the edge of a cliff or being at the top of a roller coaster. Is this it? It's incredible and I don't want it to stop. The rush, the high, the way Michael is making me feel absolutely sexy, I need it. He leans with his elbow on the bed and brings a hand between us, his thumb rubbing against my clit again, fervently. I shout out, feeling like waves have crashed down on me.

With his other hand, Michael covers my mouth. I moan into it as he pumps into me slower and slower. He groans and his body tenses around me before he collapses at my side.

We both lay there, breathing heavily. Michael kisses my shoulder before sitting up on the side of the bed. He discreetly removes his condom and wraps it up in a tissue before discarding it into the small trash bin by the closet. He slips into his boxers and climbs back into bed. I turn my back to him and pull a blanket over the both of us and we snuggle with his arm around me for a long time. Neither of us say a word. I begin to suspect he's drifted off to sleep but then I feel him move.

"I need to get home. I still have to pack all my shit." He runs a hand through my hair and kisses my head before slipping out of the covers.

Keeping the blanket over me, I sit up, tucking it under my arms. I watch as he dresses. I feel weird. I feel like I should see him again soon, but I know I won't. Once he's done, he sits on the edge of the bed. "See you next summer?"

"I'll be here," I sadly smile. I always miss him when I leave. But now, no matter what we said, it's definitely going to be different. I'm craving him again already.

"Enjoy school, Bean." He kisses my nose, gets up and leaves the room with a wink.

As I went on to college, he went on to become an actor. And a successful one, slowly but surely. And I never saw him again. Until now.


	6. Soup

I lazily stretch, waking from yet another nap. The sunlight out my window drenches my bedroom and I groan. It's way too bright. I glance at my phone and see it's nearing lunchtime. I groan again at the thought of lunch. My stomach rumbles but I have no desire to eat. We usually spend this day out and about and I always look forward to lunch at The West End House with the entire family but something feels off today. 

Saint Stephen's Day is also known as the Annual O'Conner Shop Til You Drop Day. My mother loves the after-Christmas sales. I enjoy it but never do more than browse. The lack of extra luggage space keeps my bank account steady on these trips. 

I stretch one last time before attempting to sit up and I spew vomit across my lap, awkwardly forming a makeshift cup with my hands to catch it as best as I can. It spills over and dribbles down my bare legs instead. Shit.

I whimper and frantically look around for anything to help me. Michael's gift bag is on the floor so I kick it over with my foot until all the contents fall out, then dump my hands inside. I wipe my hands down my pajama shirt figuring it's already damaged. Before I can puke again, I carefully pull my shirt up over my head and use it to wipe down my legs. I toss the shirt into the middle of my bed and gather up the bedsheets. I quickly find a new shirt and some sweats and throw them on before I take my nasty laundry downstairs.

As I try to rush, because I can tell already that I have more coming, I nearly crash into Raegan who was also on her way downstairs but looking quite the opposite of me. "Rae, can you toss this stuff in the laundry room for me? Please? I'm sick and I don't think I'm going to make it back up in time to use the bathroom."

"You're sick?"

"Rae, please! Take it!" I shove my laundry in her arms and she pushes it back.

"What? No! I'm not touching that! Did you vomit on it?! God Frankie!"

"Rae, I swear to God, if you don't --" My eyes widen, as do hers. I throw my hands over my mouth, dropping the sheets at her feet. I spin around and book it to the bathroom in time to spew into the toilet.

"I'm not touching your shit, Frankie," Rae hollers as she makes her way down the stairs. 

My stomach completely empties itself but I continue heaving until my eyes water. Once I finally catch a break, I flush the toilet and splash cold water on my face before I drag myself back to bed. Not even caring enough to hunt down clean sheets, I plop myself down onto my bare mattress and pray I'm done with puking for the rest of my life.

I didn't even notice my mother come in. "Francis? Sweetheart? Are you sick?" My heart swells hearing my mother's concerned voice, a rare gem in my life.

I moan in reply and turn to face her.

"So you're not coming?"

Again, I moan and shake my head.

"Oh, okay. Well, feel better. Stay hydrated. I threw your stuff in the wash. You really oughta put a towel down over the mattress. Just in case. Get some rest. Bye." Gently, she closes the door.

As I slowly drift back to sleep, whimpering and clenching my stomach as I bend myself into the fetal position, I can hear everyone leaving through the front door. The door closes, the cars start and finally I hear them leaving down the gravel road. I can only assume Rae explained I wouldn't be joining them today.

My eyes flutter back open when I hear the front door again. I half expect my mother to start yelling for me, but she doesn't. Maybe she's decided to stay behind and baby me. I don't get my hopes up, though. My eyelids get heavier by the second and I realize I really don't care about anything other than sleep. I sigh deeply as I feel sleep begin to overtake me until someone softly raps on my door.

Without waiting for a reply, Michael inches my door open and peers in. His hair is perfectly tousled and he's wearing a dark grey cable knit sweater with jeans. "Good lord, Frankie. What happened to you?"

I groan and slowly turn over on the bed, facing the wall. "I'm sick."

"Yes, I gathered that." I feel my bed sink a little as he seats himself beside me. He places a palm across my forehead and his hand feels so cool, having been outside in the cold. "You're burning up. Have you taken anything?"

I shake my head and find myself shivering. "Can you find me a blanket? Please?"

"We need to bring your fever down, darling. Think you can sit in the tub for a bit? I'll help you."

I groan. "Please, just leave me here. I just need a blanket and sleep."

I hear him sigh before he rises and leaves the room.

"Blanket..." I groan after him.

He sticks his head back in. "Bath first."

Next thing I know, I'm being carried across the hall and into the bathroom. Everything hurts and I'm pretty sure I'm dying. I can feel my heart pounding so hard that my chest actually hurts from it.

"Here, stand for a second while I strip you." Michael places me at the edge of the tub.

I weakly shove him away. "Yeah right. Get out of here, I'll do it myself."

Michael smirks. "Get in the tub. It's not hot, it's lukewarm, so don't freak out if it feels freezing cold. I'll be back in a minute." He turns and shuts the door behind him, leaving myself to it.

I slowly shrug out of my shirt, every muscle screaming to be left alone. I drop my sweats and my panties and gingerly climb into the tub. Shit, it's cold. I'm already shivering and now I want to cry. I don't bother washing off my body. I just lie back and rest my head on the edge of the tub, counting the tiles along the mirror so I don't fall asleep and drown.

Several minutes later, Michael knocks on the door. He enters, covering his eyes with one hand while holding a fresh set of pajamas in the other. "Are you ready to get out? I brought you this to change into."

I don't say anything. I'm sure I whimper some more as I carefully climb out and wrap a towel around my torso. I take the clothes and wait for him to leave. I feel acutely mortified when I realize he included a pair of undies for me. I dress as quickly as I can. I just want to get back into my bed. Maybe Michael found a blanket for me.

I stagger across the hall and not only do I have a blanket waiting for me, but my entire bed is made up with fresh bedsheets. There's a bucket on the table as well as a tall glass of water. I slip into bed and sigh. A bath was a good idea. Michael enters my room with a tray.

"Think you can eat?" He raises his eyebrows.

"I just want to sleep."

He smiles and places the tray on the table. "I know. But humor me, okay? Just a few bites and some water. And if it stays down, I'll leave you alone to sleep. Cross my heart."

I mumble and sit up. I don't want him here right now. I can take care of myself so there's really no need for him. I scoot back until I'm propped against the headboard and Michael places the tray in my lap. Some chicken soup and crackers. He takes a seat at the end of the bed near my feet and watches as I take my first bite. The warm broth does feel good going down to my stomach. Michael reaches out and caresses my ankle.

"Why aren't you out with everyone else?" I almost whisper.

"I was only going because you were."

I give him a little smile and carefully blow on my next spoonful of soup.

"Did the bath help a little?"

I nod. "I think so." Michael stands and brings his palm to my forehead again. He smiles, pleased with himself.

I take a cracker and hand him the tray. "I don't want to push it. I'll eat some more later."

He takes the tray and sets it on the table. 

"Thanks for putting sheets on the bed."

Michael smiles and asks, "Can I get you anything else?"

I shake my head and slip back under the sheets. "You've done more than enough. More than my own mom has ever done. You'll be a great mother someday."

"Hah. Thanks. I'll be downstairs."

"Hmm? No, why? You don't need to stay. Go and catch up with everyone. I'll be fine."

"Mmm. No. I'm staying."

"Fine. Suit yourself." I turn my back again and hear him leave the room.

Immediately, I feel the soup backtrack and I sit up and yelp. I throw the sheets off and run to the bathroom. Michael is behind me before I know it, holding my hair up as I empty my stomach into the toilet again.

I yell at him to leave, to get out. "Please, go away!" I spew again. He stays right where he is, clutching my hair out of harm's way.

He doesn't say anything. He just takes my verbal abuse which irritates me even more. I'm pretty sure he's smiling. "Seriously Michael, get the fuck out! I don't want you to see me like this!"

"Stop. Just finish up here and I'll help you back to bed."

Finally, I begin dry heaving which I think is even more embarrassing. "God, please go away. Please. I'm so disgusting."

"I'm just pretending you're hungover, Frankie. I've done this before, don't worry about it. You're not disgusting. Only you could be as gorgeous as you are puking like this," he laughs which makes me laugh as I heave yet again.

"Please, don't make me laugh!"

"Sorry!" He laughs again.

After the last heave, I sit there, hugging the toilet for a minute until I'm sure I'm done. Michael releases my hair and combs his fingers through it before I stand.

"Ugh. I need to brush my teeth."

Michael steps back and leans into the doorframe, just watching me. I feel more self-conscious about him watching me as I brush my teeth than I did as I puked my guts out in front of him. I try to ignore him and focus on not gagging on my toothbrush.

He follows me back to my room and once again, I slip into the sheets. "Will you... will you stay?"

Michael smiles. "I said I would."

"I mean, with me. Here."

"Of course. Let me in by the wall so you can run to the bathroom if you need to." He sheds his sweater, wearing a white undershirt, and kicks his shoes off. He carefully climbs up me, straddles one leg over at a time and slips in next to me, wrapping his arms around my torso. His arms are so wonderfully muscular. I snuggle against him and sigh. This feels good. Familiar. Loving. I've missed spooning.

I settle into him and almost instantaneously fall asleep as he combs his fingers through my hair. It's calming and just what I need.

I awaken much later to Michael gently climbing out of the bed. "Shh," he whispers. "I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll be right back." 

I glance at my phone and it's way past dinner time now. I can't believe Michael stayed with me the entire day. I feel guilty. I shouldn't have asked him to stay. But I'm so glad he did. I'm already feel a lot better. I could still stand to sleep some more, so I roll around until I'm comfortable again. My body misses Michael's warmth. He quickly returns and resumes his position except now I'm facing him.

"Don't puke on me." He jokes as he brushes the hair out of my face.

I mumble and nuzzle my face into his neck.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I could sleep for an entire month."

I feel him press his lips against the top of my head. "Sounds like you'll be back to normal before you know it."

"Thanks for staying. Sorry I ruined your whole day."

Michael props himself up on his elbow and lifts my chin up, gently. "Frankie. There's honestly nothing else I would rather be doing right now. You haven't ruined my day at all. I just want you better."

I smile weakly and he wraps his arms around me again. 

The next time I wake up, my back is against Michael once more. His large hand rests on my hip and his face is nuzzled against the back of my neck. I can feel the steady flow of his warm breath. I want to stretch, but I don't want to wake him. My eyes flit around the room. I can't quite reach my phone but the soft light peeking through the curtains has me thinking it's still early morning. I didn't hear anyone come home last night.

Michael stirs and moans. The sound makes my heart begin to race. His hand grips my hip and I can feel him harden behind me. He presses against my ass and moans again. I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from giggling. 

What the hell do I do? Obviously, I should wake him up... right? Instead, I push back a little, sticking my ass out more. His hand slips under my shirt and his fingers splay across my belly, slowing inching upwards. I gasp when he comes in contact with my breast and he stops.

There's no movement for a few seconds and Michael shifts. "Frankie?" he whispers.

I feign drowsiness and answer him with a sleepy mumble.

"How are you?" His hand quickly slips back out of my shirt and he presses it to my forehead. "You're still a little warm but not as bad as yesterday."

"I feel fine." I press my ass against him again.

He makes a noise and chuckles. "Sorry. Morning wood."

I look back at him, coyly. God he looks amazing and he only just woke up! His hair is sticking out on one side where he slept most of the night and I just want to run my fingers through it. I don't say anything. I lock my eyes with his and continue to press back against him. I smile when realization hits him. His eyes light up and he pulls me closer to him.

"You're naughty," he growls into my ear. He slips his hand back into my shirt and his fingers find my nipples. I drop my head back and his mouth finds my exposed neck. He nips his way up to my ear and his hand gently trails down my belly to the waistband of my pajama pants.

He sinks his fingers past the waistband and my panties. His fingers feel so warm against my sensitive skin. He presses me into him some more as he kisses the nipped skin along my neck.

Michael's voice is deep and full of lust. "Are you sure?" he whispers against my ear. I swallow hard and nod. I bring my hand over his for affirmation, guiding it down further until his entire hand cups my sex. 

My breathing quickens with anticipation. He slips a single finger between my folds and coats it with my arousal, humming with appreciation. 

"So wet," he moans against my neck. He pulls his hand out and sucks on his finger as he sits up. He yanks his shirt off and helps me out of mine. Straddling me, he lowers my pj pants and panties at the same time, tossing them to the floor.

I unfasten his jeans and he drops to his back next to me and peels them off. Before I know it, his mouth is on mine and his hands disappear into my hair, holding me still as he caresses my tongue with his own. My hands splay across his back and I hug him to my chest. There's nothing quite like someone else's body heat so early on a chilly morning. He straddles and presses against me, rubbing my clit with his hard-on as he moans into my mouth. He lowers his hands to the waistband of his briefs and slowly discards them. Michael crashes back into me and this time, the satin flesh of his cock against my clit makes me gasp.

We turn to our sides, still facing each other and I wrap my leg around his hip. I finger his hair at the nape of his neck and press my lips to his, hard. His hands caress my lower back, making their way south where he grips my ass and presses himself against me. I grind against him until I feel the head of his cock against my entrance. Our foreheads against each other, Michael lifts my leg up higher and sinks himself into me. It's a slightly awkward position considering our other legs are completely useless right now but neither of us are complaining. 

Our pace is slow and almost torturous. We kiss softly, our lips barely brushing each other. My hands are all over his shoulders and neck while his commit to my back.

"God, you're so warm, Frankie. You feel amazing," Michael mutters against my mouth.

"I'm- I'm-" I can barely think, let alone get a complete sentence out. I can feel my orgasm steadily climbing.

Michael cups my ass and lifts me on top of him. He holds onto my hips as he drives himself in and out. My bed frame is making a lot of noise and I simply do not care. Oh god, I want to howl or something. All I can do I grit my teeth and whimper. I sit up and lean back, trailing my fingers down his chest all the way down to where we meet. I keep moving my fingers and find my clit with one hand and cup my breast with the other. I put on a nice little show for Michael. His jaw clenches as he watches me play with myself, his body stilling. I slowly grind myself against him, loving the attention and the way he makes me feel.

"Fuck, Frankie," he reaches for my waist and we flip over with him on top. "You know exactly what to do, don't you," he chuckles, darkly.

"Learned from the best," I grin.

Michael grabs my ankle and hugs my leg to his chest. He thrusts himself in hard and I can't hold back the noises anymore. Bringing his lips to mine, he kisses them and nips my lower lip. My back begins to arch against him and I know I'm close. 

Michael pulls me to the edge of the bed so he can stand. Keeping my leg up against him, he circles my clit with his thumb as he pounds into me. 

"Oh, God, yes," I moan. My orgasm crashes through me like a wave and I grab onto his arms for support. Michael lowers my leg and holds onto my hips. He throws his head back and grunts. He spills into me before collapsing next to me on the bed. We clamber back to the center and pant in each other's arms.

Instinctively, I lift the bedsheets to cover myself but Michael tears it away. "I want to look at you."

My cheeks heat up even more as his eyes wander across my bare body. He leans against his elbow and ever so softly hovers his hand above my skin. There's no contact but somehow I can still feel him. I look away, not wanting to read his expression. In the heat of the moment, yes, I was confident. But now I'm baring all to him and I'm at my most vulnerable. I can almost feel every single stretch mark of mine glowing. Finally, his hand comes down below my belly and makes it's way back up, through the valley of my breasts, over my clavicle and to my neck. His fingers skirt across my jawbone, to my lips.

"Look at me." His voice is firm but kind.

I swallow hard and face him. My lips part slightly when I see his eyes. 

"You are so beautiful."

He kisses me and when I shiver, he finally allows us to be covered up.


	7. The West End House

An angry knock at my door startles the both of us. Michael sinks down below the sheets as I yank them up to my neck. Raegan bursts in, her eyes searching my room.

"Yes?" I ask her, annoyed with her already.

"Have you seen Michael?"

I shake my head and fake a yawn. "Nope, sorry. Why?"

"Hmm. I ran into an old friend of ours yesterday and I wanted to let him know." She steps into my room and closes the door. I silently pray she ignores the pile of clothes next to the bed.

"Oh yeah? Who?" I giggle as Michael's fingers slide across my rib cage. The ass. Not a good time!

"Sorry, I didn't mean a friend of yours. I mean mine and Michael's. You probably wouldn't know them. They were more a friend of mine. Anyway. When you're done getting yourself off, you should probably pick up your room a bit. It's kind of rude when you're a guest, Frankie."

My jaw drops. "I wasn't... Rae, I'm not masturbating..." My cheeks are burning and I'm pissed at her assumption. "And I always tidy up once I'm out of bed. Not that it's any of your business."

Rae's eyebrows arch and she smirks. "Sure." She takes another look around my room before she finally opens the door and leaves.

Michael yanks the covers down the second the door closes. "Air... need... air..." He gasps dramatically, climbing up over me. I can't help but giggle. He gives me a gentle kiss. "Fuck her, Bean. Now focus on me." He nuzzles his scruffy jaw against my neck, trying to help me forget my anger.

But instead of playing along with him, I give him a slight shove. "Not now, Fassbender. She's looking for you and you know she won't rest until she finds you. You better get dressed."

"You're bossy. I like it," he growls and pins me to the bed, his hands gripping my wrists above my head.

I sigh, pretending to be completely uninterested. "Please get dressed and get out of my room before you're caught."

"I don't care if I'm caught." He lowers his face to mine. He watches my lips, his tongue tracing along his own.

"Then why did you hide from Rae?" Michael's eyes meet mine and he gives me a little smile before he sits up.

He climbs off the bed and reaches for his shirt, pulling it on. "It was just instinct."

"Or shame," I mutter under my breath as I sit up, hugging the sheet to my chest.

Michael steps into his jeans. "What was that?" He smiles, waiting for my reply.

"...Or shame," I say a little louder.

"Shame?" He buttons his pants and fastens his belt.

"Yes. Shame. As in ashamed to be caught with me. In my bed. Where we obviously had sex."

Michael freezes, his lips parted, words unable to form themselves. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, like he's appalled by what I just said. "Frankie, what? No, that's not it at all!" He drops to his knees next to the bed and takes my hands. "I felt like a teenager about to be caught by my mum, Frankie. Like I said, it was just instinct. Please stop putting yourself down like that."

I'm embarrassed. I'm sure I sound needy and whiny, which is unlike me. I will never make a man feel obligated to defend his reasonings or emotions. That's mainly the reason my ex-fiancé and I parted. I felt a shift in me that just didn't feel like me, if that makes any sense. I began to feel lonely when he wasn't around. I hated wondering who he was with and when he would be home. I had no reason to be worried or even jealous, yet I was. And I couldn't help it. If he wanted to distance himself, then maybe what we had wasn't love. I wasn't going to fight for someone who didn't want to be around me. If he loved me, I wouldn't have been feeling that way. So I broke it off before it became much worse. I'd like to say that he took the news rather well, but the look on his face, almost shock, still kind of haunts me. Did I do the wrong thing? Had I broken someone's heart? Long story short, he apparently never saw it coming. But I didn't like who I was becoming and I knew it would only get worse after marriage. 

Michael kisses my knuckles and stands. "I think I'm going to sneak out. I'm needed at the restaurant later." 

I smile meekly, memories of helping him at his father's restaurant, The West End House, rising to the surface. "Okay. See you."

I fell back to sleep and didn't get up again until that night. The house was quiet so I snuck downstairs and raided the fridge, ate whatever leftovers I could get my hands on and then went back to bed.

I didn't see Michael again for a few days. It didn't occur to me to swap cell numbers as we were swapping spit. So when my family began bickering about where to go for dinner one evening, I blurted out "The West End House" in a deep voice and glanced at Carl as everyone looked around to see who had made the suggestion. Carl just shrugged once all eyes were on him.

"Hmm. Yes, it's been a while since we've been there. And it would be nice to catch up with Adele," my grandmother thought to herself out loud. 

"Mother, you just spoke to her this afternoon," Mom laughed.

Once we are all seated at The West End House by Adele, who is the hostess for the evening, Rae and I next to each other somehow, it became apparent to me that she had the same agenda I did; seek out Michael. Carl droned on and on, oblivious to his future bride's lack of attention.

The swinging door to the kitchen opened and swung back and forth as a busboy made his rounds clearing off tables. Each time the door opened, I scanned the kitchen for Michael. He was there, helping prepare the food. The second I saw him, my stomach did a flip and my heart began to beat as if I were running in a marathon yet at the same time, I felt every part of me freeze. Rae needs to forget Michael. Maybe I'm being a bitch but I have a bit of a claim on him, I would say. Plus she is engaged to be married! Back off, whore, he's mine now! Whoa, Frankie. Simmer down...

Before Rae could spot Michael, I decided to take advantage of her weakness: focus all attention on her, put her in the spotlight. 

"Have you guys settled on a date yet? For the wedding?" I place a gentle hand atop hers on the table and pull away once she finally looks my way.

"Hmm? Oh. Well, not quite yet." Rae pulls out a compact mirror from her purse and pats her lip delicately with her pinky. 

Carl joins in. "I'm shooting for no later than April so we can plan a honeymoon for the summer months in Barbados. Maybe, oh Rae! Maybe we could do a destination wedding there!"

"Oh wow! That sounds wonderful!" I may have put a bit too much enthusiasm into my words. "Mom, did you hear? Barbados!" My plan was working. The family all began discussing wedding ideas and Rae couldn't help but be the center of attention. It's what she does best.

I slip away easily, no one batting an eye in my direction. I press my palms to the swinging door of the kitchen and push carefully. Michael is in the zone, gently barking orders. And it's sexy. He's wearing a nice white dress shirt with a black tie and black slacks. A well-worn apron protects his clothing in case he needs to make appearances in the dining area. No one notices me enter the kitchen. I lean against the tile wall next to the swinging door and just watch with interest in how Michael easily works around the kitchen.

"I need the artichokes, please! Then this order needs to get to table twelve immediately." Michael slides a plate of seared beef across the counter to another chef who carefully piles on the artichoke and hands the plate off to a server. There's an easy ebb and flow, much like a choreographed dance. The server walks past and spots me. 

"Sorry, ma'am, did you need help?" He stops in his tracks and his question raises everyone else's eyes to me.

"Oh, sorry, no. I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just looking for Michael..." Michael is bent over another plate arranging a fancy orange glaze over pork when he looks up and smiles. "You, I was looking for you," I smile back at him.

"Emmet, can you take over for me?" Michael removes his apron and hands it over to a chef with striking red hair.

"Sure thing, boss." Emmet smiles my way and returns to his work.

"Boss?" I snicker as Michael grabs my hand and pulls me out of the kitchen with him. Glancing back at my table, my family is still giving Rae goo-goo eyes. I follow Michael back to his dad's office. Not much has change, I notice; stacks of paper work and inventory sheets strewn across the desk, photographs of the entire family all across the walls, the old chipped snow globe I had accidentally knocked off the bookshelf dusting. I wonder if his dad ever noticed?

Michael closes the door for some privacy as I look over the photos of a much younger Michael along the wall.

"I remember this," I point to Michael with an accordion keyboard and giggle. "Do you still play that thing?" Michael's arms snake around my waist and his lips press against the back of my neck.

"Mmm I do. Ladies love it," he jokes. "Where have you been?" 

I turn in his arms and he presses me against the wall, pinning me with his hips. I stroke his tie between my fingers and then give it a little tug. "What do you mean? You know where I live."

"I put my number in your phone." He kisses me before he continues. "I've been waiting for you to call me."

This time I kiss him. "I had no idea. You should have told me."

He cups my face and plants tiny kisses on the corners of my smile. I love having his tall and broad frame tower over me. "It was meant to be a surprise. You were supposed to scroll through your contacts and see my handsome face on your screen."

"Hmm. Maybe you should have texted yourself with my phone so you'd have my number. Then, you could have called me and I still would have been surprised to see your handsome face on my screen."

"Good point. It's a good thing you like me for my looks and not my brain."

"Yes, lucky you," I grab his neck and crush my lips against his. Michael's hands squeeze my hips before wandering off on their own. They make their way north where he cups my breasts. I moan into his mouth. Here we are making out like a couple of teenagers. I drop my hand to his growing erection and give him a nice firm grasp. He groans and kisses me harder.

"Hey Mike, ya back here, ya dosser?" Michael steps back until he's behind the office chair. It covers his obvious hard-on and I snicker. I grab my blouse by the hem and straighten it out as the door flies open. "Oh," an older gentleman looks alarmed. "Sorry! Aye, Mikey, is this your mot?"

Knowing "mot" means "girlfriend" I flush, embarrassed. Michael stutters, unsure of what to say. 

"No, I'm not. I'm just an old friend." I walk up to the man and shake his hand. "Hi, my name's Frankie."

"Ah, aye. I've heard of you. Pleased to meet ya. I'm Colum. Mikey, yer ma has been shouting around for you."

"Ah, thanks, Colum. I'll be right out." Colum gave me a small smile before leaving the office. "Sorry, Bean. Will you wait here for me?" Michael adjusts his tie, eyeing me.

"Actually, I'm here for dinner with my family." I point out of the office toward the rest of the restaurant. 

Michael frowns. "Oh. Okay. Well great! Let me go say 'hi'!" He walks up to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I trail behind him out to the restaurant, all the way to the table where my rather loud and boisterous family are seated.

Rae stands immediately and gushed over Michael, giving him a quick hug. "I was so hoping you would be here! I have the best news! I had to beg your mom to get you out of the kitchen!"

I take my seat next to Rae and take a sip of water. Rae sits back down as Michael says his hellos to the rest of the family. Rae impatiently waits for his attention. When he finally looks back at her, she's practically shaking with the need to tell him something.

"You'll never guess who I saw the other day!"

"Oh, yes, I forgot you ran into an old friend?" Michael scratches his scruff before folding his arms in front of him.

Rae looks at me, then back at him. "Yes, did Frankie tell you that?"

We both nod.

"Yes, well, anyway, I was trying on these amazing knee-high boots and let me tell you, 'amazing' is an understatement. I really should have gotten them." She looks at Carl who is hanging on her every word, agreeing. "Maybe I'll go back and get them tomorrow."

"You should, babe. They were amazing." Carl smiles. Poor schmuck.

"I should! And I will." Rae beams and faces Michael.

"Rae? Friend?" Michael patiently reminds her. I take another sip of water to hide my smirk.

"Oh, yes! So I was looking in the mirror to see how the boots looked and in walks Jane! You remember Jane, right?"

I choke, nearly spitting my water across the table and into Uncle Geoff's face. "Excuse me," I mutter as I use a napkin to dab my mouth.

"Jane," Michael smiles. "Wow." I can't blame him for his reaction. Jane was his first love.

"Yes!" Rae claps excitedly and looks at me. She knows this is bad news for me. Oh, she knows. "And I invited her to the New Years Eve party!"

Well. Fuck.


	8. Hello, Jane

Jane.

Jane.

Janie Jane Jane.

Jane Jane go away, come again another day.

I'm in bed staring at the ceiling. Tonight is the party. And thanks to my bitter-as-hell cousin, the first love of someone I'm kind of starting to fall for is going to show up and ruin everything. Do I throw in the towel now? 

My dress hangs outside my closet door. I pulled it out last night after coming home from dinner with my family. I tried so hard not to let Rae get to me. I smiled so much that my jaw and cheeks began to hurt like a bitch. I didn't see Michael again but I did send him a text saying I'd see him at the party to which he replied, "Looking forward to it!" So that's a good sign.

I've already spent more than half the day sleeping in order to not be a party pooper and crash early like I usually do on New Year's Eve with a smörgåsbord of Chinese food cartons within reach. I toss my feet over the side of the bed and sit up, stretching. The party is in three hours which gives me more than enough time to grab something to eat from the kitchen before packing. Then it's off to the O'Leary Castle Hotel and Golf Resort. And yes, it's as fancy as it sounds.

My grandparents always reserve the biggest event room they have as well as a hall of hotel rooms so that no one is driving intoxicated after the party. The way our relationship is going, I may just have to place a set of car keys in Raegan's hands by the end of the evening...

I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought. What an awful thing to think, yet I can't help but smirk. I'm evil, what can I say?

 

***

 

After about forty-five minutes of driving, Carl pulls up to the castle and drops Rae and I off before parking. My grandparents, mother and uncle left earlier. Others pull into the area and I recognize their faces as the usual party goers my grandparents invite. Still no sign of Michael or Jane. I wonder if he's seen her yet? I wonder if she still looks the same?

I drape my dress over my shoulder carefully and clutch my overnight bag as we step into the castle. I wouldn't exactly call it a castle on the inside. It sadly has been updated and every trace of Irish history has been erased. Mostly it's used for weddings. The ceremonies take place outdoors and the receptions are simultaneously indoors and outdoors. 

Rae and I stop at the concierge and get our keys. Passing the grand ballroom I see the band is already there setting up as well as the hotel staff bustling to finish the tables and decorations. Thousands upon thousands of gold balloons cover the entire ceiling of the room, gold ribbons trailing down just five feet off the dance floor to make it more fun. No one has ever been strangled at our New Years Eve parties. Yet. 

Dun dun dun...

Rae takes the elevator and I find the stairwell and walk up to the third floor where several rooms have been booked for the party. It feels good making the three story trek up the stairs after a week of no exercise. Oh no wait. Sex counts, I suppose. Still. My legs are thanking me for working them a little. And my head thanks me for the little break from Rae. She was on her phone the entire car ride here, chatting with friends she will be partying with tonight. It really makes no sense.

I unlock my door and push in, dropping my bag to the floor. After locking up, I hang my dress in the closet across from the extravagant bathroom and check my phone. I've been glancing at it every two minutes, hoping for a call or a text from Michael. Anything to calm my nerves really. I hate how worked up I'm getting over something that could mean absolutely nothing. My heart pounds when I see I have a text from Michael after all. Oh sweet mystery of life, praise the donkey that Mother Mary rode into Bethlehem on!

**I hope this goes without saying, but you know I'm kissing you at midnight, yes? ;) Mxx**

My insides completely clench and I re-read the simple text until my eyes blur from a lack of blinking. God, when did I turn into such a school girl? I carefully text back and proofread before sending.

**Oh really? Get in line, mister.**

Good, good. Keep him on his toes.

I place my phone next to the sink and turn on the bath water. Once the stream from the faucet is perfectly hot, I plug in the drain and strip off my clothes. The hotel has several miniature bottles of bubble bath to choose from so I carefully consider my options before selecting a fragrant vanilla bean. My phone buzzes across the sink as I pour the bubbles in.

A handsome face appears on my lock screen.

"Can't stay away, huh," I jest loudly over the roar of the faucet, checking the temperature one last time with a cautious toe before stepping into the heavily bath.

"It's true. I couldn't sleep last night. What have you done to me?" Michael's voice purrs into my ear.

I giggle quietly while doing my best to hold my phone away from the water. Using my free hand, I cup the bubbles and bring them close to my chest. I stick up my foot and turn the nozzle until the faucet shuts off.

"What are you doing?" Michael asks. The way he asks, he might as well have asked me what I'm wearing.

I lick my lips and decide to stoke the fire a little. "I'm taking a bath."

"A bath? Really? Right now?" His voice is now husky and affecting me very much, I must say.

"Mmmhmm. The whole shebang, bubbles and all."

"That sounds pretty amazing."

"It is. Are you at the hotel yet?"

"Not quite. Do you remember Emerson?"

I let myself submerge a bit more into the water until I can lay my head back in a comfortable position. "Of course I remember Emerson."

Emerson Johnson, Michael's best friend since they were kids. Not a bad looking guy at all. Funny, too. And of course, Rae dated him for a few months.

"I'm waiting for him to show up and then we will be on our way. I might be a little late but I'll be there."

"Sounds good." I close my eyes and breathe in the vanilla scent.

"So."

"So," I mimick.

"You're naked, huh?"

I laugh and blush. "I'll see you tonight, Michael."

 

***

 

Moving at my leisure since there was no point in being ready on time, I gently pull the curlers out of my hair, the warm strands feeling good against my bare neck. Once every curler is out, I twist each strand, one at a time, pinning them up until I can twist all of them together into a large curly bun. I hold the bun in place with a few more bobby pins and observe my appearance in the mirror. Not bad. I grab the hair spray and spray a halo around my head. The updo compliments the smokey eye I dared to try. I am feeling rather proud of myself and excited to get my dress on to see how it all comes together.

I push back from the vanity in the bathroom and walk to the closet where my dress hangs, waiting for me. It's gorgeous and most likely the most expensive dress I will ever own. Unless I get married, then maybe my wedding dress will be the winner of the "Most Expensive Dress Frankie Owns" game. But I digress. I allowed myself to go a little crazy when I bought it in celebration of losing an extra two dress sizes. Before I pull the dress off it's hanger, I slip on my beige Spanx (okay, if you've ever worn Spanx then you know 'slip on' does not mean 'slip on') just to make sure my curves show where they're supposed to.

I carefully weasel myself into my dress, doing my best to leave my hair untouched. Next, I step into a pair of black lace Jimmy Choo knock-offs, fasten on simple diamond studs to my earlobes and then appraise my entire appearance before the vanity mirror.

Whoa. Not bad! The dress looks great on me. It's a short sleeve sapphire blue A-line dress with a sweetheart neckline, fitted bodice, and matching lace overlay that goes up higher across my clavicle into a crew neck. I turn side to side, checking out every angle. I'm proud of myself. It sure as hell wasn't easy to get to this point, and I've a ways to go, but it sure is worth it. My self-confidence has shot through the roof these last few months. I'm a work in progress, but I'm happy.

I don't have a clutch so I force myself to leave my phone behind. I grab my key, which I'll keep with the concierge until I need it. Not wanting to break a sweat in my dress, or break an ankle, I opt for the elevator this time and ride down to the lobby in anticipation. 

The elevator doors part and I step out, the beat from the band's speakers making my heart feel like it's beating harder than usual. I drop my key off and follow several others into the ballroom. I search around for a familiar face and see Carl in a smart dark charcoal suit with a navy blue tie ordering a drink at the open bar. We make eye contact and he smiles, signaling me over.

"Wow, Frankie! You look fantastic! Can I get you a drink?" He almost has to yell because of the music. He gives me a polite kiss on the cheek and I order a glass of white wine. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Raegan? I still can't make sense of it.

"Where's your fiancée?" I ask him, trying not to shout too loud. He shrugs and points to the ceiling. She must still be in her room getting ready. I take several gulps of the wine.

He leans over to my ear so he doesn't need to shout anymore. "I've already been waiting for half an hour. Want to dance? I'm afraid I'll drink the whole bar if you don't keep me occupied!"

"Oh, um, sure!" I quickly throw back the rest of my wine and place the glass on a table as we pass it, making our way to the center of the dance floor.

The band's name, Ginny and the Tonics, is stenciled across the bass drum and they are playing Billie Jean by Michael Jackson. The crowd swallows the both of us up as we jump around and shake to the beat. Carl lip-syncs to the song and does his best Michael Jackson moves, appallingly so, emitting several laughs from me. I'm liking Carl more and more and as bad as I feel for him wanting to spend the rest of his life with someone like Rae, at least I will have a new friend to hang out with at family functions.

We enjoy each other's company on the dance floor for a few more dances until a slow song begins. We snake our way through swaying bodies to an unoccupied table. Carl takes a seat, exhausted already.

"Need a drink?" I ask, laughing at his pathetic state.

"Please! A beer would be perfect."

At the bar, I order beer for Carl and another wine for myself. The ornate clock above the bar tells me there are only three hours left until midnight. The bartender hands me my drinks and I thank him, turning to head back to Carl when I stop in my tracks. Just several feet in front of me is a girl with long blonde hair held up in what I like to call the perfect pony tail. Her sleeveless dress is gold and snug, hugging her in all the right places. She turns and glances my way and I feel myself blush for being caught staring. I blink and take a drink, not realizing it's Carl's beer I have to my lips.

"Hi! You're Frankie, right?" She asks in an accent I can't quite place. A bit Aussie, a bit Irish.

Shit. Please don't be her please don't be her.

"Yes, yes I am," I say, a bit too matter-of-factly.

"I thought so! I saw you out there, tearing up the dance floor with your boyfriend and I thought you looked familiar!" She closes the distance between us, smiling from ear to ear. "Do you remember me? It sure has been a long time. Jane?"

Inside, I'm dying a little bit. She looks amazing. Age has been extremely kind to her. I take a quick peek at her left hand and there's no ring. I die a little more.

"Of course! Yes! Wow, hi!" I put my drinks on the counter and give her a quick little hug. "And actually, that guy I was with is Rae's boyfriend. Fiancé, actually. Not mine."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense. I saw him with her at the shoe store the other day but they didn't give off any kind of relationship vibe," she laughs. "She didn't introduce me to him at all, so I had no idea!"

"That's strange. She brags about her engagement every chance she gets," I half-joke. "So, wow. It's been so long! What's been going on with you, huh? You must be happily married with a whole team of little babies, yeah?"

"Babies? Goodness gracious, no! And no, not married. Well, I am. But we are separated. Trial separation and all."

Ugh. Why.

I take a gulp of wine. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

Jane shrugs and reaches for her wine the bartender brings. "Yeah, it's not ideal, but eh. How about you? You look amazing, by the way!"

God, she's still so nice. "Thanks. And no, I'm single. No kids that I know of," I laugh and she joins me.

Over Jane's shoulder, I see Rae finally make her appearance. She does not look pleased. One hand on her hip, she scans the crowd. Her eyes stop suddenly and she makes a beeline straight to the table where Carl is sitting. Oh boy. 

Feeling like I should rescue poor Carl, I turn to Jane and give her a slight frown. "It was great to see you again! I need to go deliver this to Carl but I'm sure we will run into each other again very soon!"

I leave Jane and power walk to the table where Rae is hush-yelling at Carl. I place the beer before him and offer Rae my wine glass.

"No, thank you," she growls.

"What's the matter?" I sit next to Carl, watching her.

Rae groans loudly. "I told him to wait for me by the bar so he could escort me in! I looked like an idiot walking into the room without my fiancé on my arm!"

Carl stands and places a gentle hand on the small of Rae's back. "Please Rae, I said I was sorry."

Poor Carl.

"Sorry Rae, it was my fault. I asked him to dance and you know Carl; he's a total gentleman and couldn't turn me down." I fidget with the silverware on the table.

Rae takes a second to reply but finally, she smiles at Carl. "You are too sweet for your own good. Now let's go practice for the wedding!" 

Well that tantrum was short-lived.

She grabs Carl's hand and I'm left alone with Carl's beer, which is technically mine anyway since I already took a sip, and my wine. I'm sure I look like a lush.

I look back to the bar, but Jane is nowhere to be seen. I feel uneasy. It's stupid of me to want to keep Michael from seeing her, but visions of his tongue rolling out and his eyes springing from their sockets like some cartoon with the "aroogah!" sound keep playing in my head. He was heartbroken when she left. He loved her. Of course he's going to still feel something for her and when he feasts his eyes upon the gorgeous Jane I've seen tonight, that's it. Game over.

Suddenly, a pair of calloused hands cover my eyes and I jump a little in my seat. At first I think it's Michael and my heart leaps, but something tells me it's not.

"Guess whooo?" Uncle Geoff teases.

"Channing Tatum?" I tease back, his hands still over my eyes.

"Close enough!" He drops his hands and comes into my sight. "What are ye doing here all alone, doll?"

I shrug and sip my wine. "Just enjoying everyone else having fun."

"I'll have none of that, missy. Up. We're dancing!" He grabs my hand and I begrudgingly trail behind him.

Up on the stage, the singer, who I can only assume is Ginny, seems to be having the most fun out of everyone here. Uncle Geoff and I, along with everyone else, dance around to Raise Your Glass. He spins me around and we bump hips. You know, all the latest dance moves. I actually find myself smiling, dancing with my Uncle. Once the song ends, the band begins playing Fools Rush In. Uncle Geoff looks at me with a sweet face. 

"One slow dance with your favorite Uncle?" he asks.

I smile and place my hand in his. We're only dancing for a few seconds before we're interrupted by a tap on Uncle Geoff's shoulder.

"May I cut in?" Michael ever so charmingly asks my Uncle. 

Uncle Geoff gives me a kiss on the cheek before stepping away. "Enjoy, kiddo," he says.

Michael's hair is perfectly tousled, the first thing I notice. He holds me out at arm's length, looking me over as I take him in. He handsomely sports a wool check slate colored waistcoat over a crisp white dress shirt, his sleeves rolled to the elbows. The waistcoat certainly accentuates his broad shoulders and narrow hips. 

Michael pulls me to him and wraps his arms behind me against the small of my back. "Wow, Frankie," he grins.

"Right back at you," I smile back, my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at his nape and he presses his forehead to mine. He smells amazing. I can smell whiskey on his breath.

"Did you just get here?" I ask, looking into his eyes. I have mentioned before how gorgeous his eyes are, right? His lashes, ugh. I could slap him, he's so pretty.

He nods. Good. Then he hasn't run into Jane yet.

I drop my head to his chest, focusing on his heartbeat instead of the music. My arms slip behind his back and he hugs me tight. The ribbons of the balloons tickle my neck as we sway.

"So where is Emerson?" I ask after the song is over. Ginny is now in full Lady Gaga mode, belting out Just Dance, yet Michael and I are still arm-in-arm and swaying slowly.

"Most likely avoiding Raegan," he replies with a smirk. "I neglected to inform him she's here and the second he saw her, oh Frankie," he throws his head back, laughing. "You should have seen his face!"

"I can imagine," I laugh with him.

"Let's go find him. He's excited to see you again," he takes my hand and leads me off the dance floor.

We maneuver around the waiters placing samples of desserts on each table. My eyes lock on the cheesecake that's practically screaming my name. I groan wanting just one bite but Michael tugs me along, completely oblivious to the sweets.

Emerson is nowhere to be found. I suggest checking the restrooms and then outside in case he's smoking. We walk hand in hand down to the hallway where the bathrooms are located, flirting and laughing. 

And then, Jane.

She steps right out of the women's restroom, nearly crashing into us. I hold in my breath, waiting for the "aroogah!" that's surely coming. It doesn't. In it's place is something far worse. I look from Jane to Michael, my heart in my stomach.

Michael's lips curl up into a smile and his eyes light up. "Hello, Jane."


	9. The Midnight Fiasco

This is unbearable. Thank God Emerson emerges from the men's room and breaks the tension.

"Aye! Hallway party! Hey Frankie!" Emerson joins the three of us and gives me a tiny bump on my shoulder with his fist. This is what happens when you grow up as 'one of the guys.'

"Hey Emerson," I frown when Michael releases my hand.

"Em! You remember Jane?" Michael can't stop smiling. 

Emerson greats Jane with a little hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How are you, love?" Oh sure. Kiss her.

"This is such a crazy reunion," Jane laughs. "I was worried no one would remember me!"

"Who could forget Jane Donovan?" Emerson exclaims.

In my head, I raise my hand.

Michael crosses his arms and it feels out place. Like he's trying to erase the fact that he was just seen holding my hand.

"So," Emerson is beginning to realize it's getting a bit awkward now. "Is there a reason we're all by the jacks?"

"We were looking for you, but now that I'm here, I might as well take a pee break." Jane moves aside so I can step into the restroom.

Emerson begins asking Jane about Australian life and Michael is kind enough to let me know they'll be at the bar. I close the door and listen for their departing footfalls, Jane's heels loudly clacking away.

I sigh, leaning back against the door. My jaw is stiff from clenching my teeth, something I tend to do when faced with conflict. I stretch out my jaw and shake my arms, walking to the sink. I don't really need to pee, I just needed to break character and freak out to myself for a minute in privacy. I grip the edge of the sink and stare at my reflection. 

"You knew this was coming," I say to myself. I take in another deep breath and let it out slowly. I can handle this. Michael likes me for me. So I'll just continue to be Frankie. If it's Jane he wants, then...

My jaw stiffens again. 

I smack my cheeks a bit to give them more color and then head back to the ballroom faking confidence. Fake it til you make it.

Michael, Jane, and Emerson have just received their drinks and Emerson asks what I'd like. I ask for a whiskey sour. Emerson gives me some major side-eye but I hardly notice. Michael is hunched over the bar on his elbows, giving Jane his undivided attention. His brows are furrowed and he's nodding at everything she's saying. Jane is just so damn interesting, it seems.

"Hey, uh, Frankie, do you feel like shaking it on the dance floor?" Emerson asks after a huge swig of his beer.

Michael's concentration does not falter. "What was that?" I ask Emerson louder than necessary, keeping an eye on Michael to gauge if he catches what we are saying. "Did you just ask me to dance??"

Emerson blinks and frowns. "Why are you yelling?"

"Loud music!" I yell.

Michael laughs at something Jane says and I feel my heart sink even lower into my stomach. In two giant gulps, I down my drink, leaving Emerson wide-eyed and smirking. I grab his hand and drag him behind me to the dance floor. The alcohol is beginning to make my head swim. I definitely need to slow it down a bit. There isn't anything much worse than a hangover.

"Yo! Carl, my man!" I shout as we pull up next to him and Raegan shaking to the beat of Happy by Pharrell Williams. Ginny and the Tonics are all over the charts with their skills.

Rae's back is to us but she turns when Carl laughs and waves my way. Emerson tugs on my hand, trying to yank me away from them. If looks could kill, Emerson would be on a slab right now. Lasers are practically shooting from her eyes, into poor Emerson's heart.

"Ew, really, Emerson?" Rae drops Carl's hand and places hers on her hips. With the flashing lights and crowd dancing dancing around her, all smiles as she scowls, it almost looks like we are in a music video.

"Well hello there, Sunshine," Emerson teases, realizing there's no escaping now. May as well grin and bare it.

"Oh, oh that's riiiight," I snicker. "Emerson dumped you, didn't he?"

"Frankie," Emerson tugs my hand, and I stagger toward him.

"Excuse me?" Rae laughs in disbelief.

"And now here he is! Dancing with meee." I turn to Emerson who looks just a bit uncomfortable but entertained. I blow Rae a kiss and begin dancing with my new dance partner.

Rae grabs Carl's hand and they exit the dance floor. Good riddance. 

Emerson drops his face to my ear so he doesn't have to shout. "You really pissed her off, Frankie!"

"Who, Rae-bans? Who cares. She's always pissed about _something_." I shrug and shake my booty.

Emerson laughs, dancing with me. "Did you just call her Rae-bans? Like the sunglasses?"

I smile and nod, spinning in a few circles before he grabs my hands and keeps me in place with him. "Oh my god, I get it! Because she's shady? That's brilliant, Frankie," Emerson chuckles. "You're a bit plastered, ain't ya?"

Frowning, I push him back with the palm of my hand. He holds onto it, keeping it in place.

"Only a little. Barely buzzed," I hiccup. My free hand covers my mouth and I giggle.

"Oh boy," Emerson shakes his head, grinning.

Time seems to speed up as we continue to dance for several more songs, including the slow ballads. The earth is spinning rather fast and I'm beginning to wish I wore flats instead of heels. Emerson is a smooth dancer but he's no Michael. Michael and Jane seem to have disappeared, or found a more quiet place to talk. No matter how hard I try, I can't push the jealousy out of my system. I try to focus on Emerson and his charming qualities and good looks. He's a keeper, just not for this gal. 

After another catchy dance song, my Grandfather takes the stage. Everyone cheers as Ginny hands him her microphone.

"Good evening, ladies and gents! I do hope you're having a great time! I hate to interrupt the party, but there are only two minutes left until midnight. I figured it would be a good idea to remind you since this is a New Year's Eve party. Please, my wife and I beg you lot not to be eejits. If you're fluthered, we have plenty of rooms booked. Champagne is being served and there are noisemakers and party poppers at each seat around the room! The band will begin the countdown shortly! Thank you and bless you all!"

More cheers erupt from the crowd as well as applause. 

Emerson and I find a table to grab ourselves some of the bubbly. Surely Michael has been keeping track of the time if he's not in the ballroom? I do my best to scan over everyone, looking for his handsome head.

"Looking for Michael?" Emerson stuffs a few party poppers into his jacket.

I nod. "Yes, I have to kiss him. At midnight, I mean."

"Ah. I think that's him over there?" Emerson points back toward the dance floor.

As I turn, someone collides into me, their red wine spilling down into my cleavage, soaking my dress instantly. I gasp, freezing in place as I make sense of what just happened.

"Oh, my. Frankie, I am sooo sorry!" Rae places a hand against her cheek, her mouth open in fake shock. "I wasn't watching where I was going. Better get that cleaned up. I'm sure the bar has extra napkins."

Emerson hands me the ones he finds on the table. "Wow Rae. Real mature."

"It was an accident." She glares at him before storming off again.

I will not cry. I will not cry. 

I rush to the bar as quickly as my high heels will allow and snatch a tiny stack of napkins, pressing them against my breasts. The crowd starts cheering as the band counts down from ten.

Shit shit shit!

I bend down and yank my shoes off. As quickly as I can, while still patting down my boobs and my dress, I try to find Michael.

There he is!

**Seven!**

Get out of the way, people!

**Six!**

Move it or lose it, sister!

**Five!**

Oh god, Jane is next to him...

**Four!**

Time slows down and I feel like I'm moving in slow motion. Michael smiles from cheek to cheek as he holds up a flute of champagne. 

**Three!**

Jane faces him and they smile at each other. 

**Two!**

It's no use. I tell myself to halt. Why ruin this moment for them? I bite down on my lip, forcing my tears to stay away.

**One! Happy New Year!**

The crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and confetti. Michael and Jane clink their glasses together and as confetti slowly showers down over me, I watch as my childhood-crush-turned-whatever-you-would-call-him-now places his lips upon hers.

That was my kiss.

Feeling defeated, I lower my head. Then someone grabs me quickly, dipping me back, place their firm lips against mine. Only when I'm back in standing position do I realize it's Emerson with his arms wrapped around me.

"Happy New Year, Frankie," he whispers into my ear.

I'm a bit overwhelmed with emotion right now. I sort of begin to laugh-cry, not really quite sure which emotion is the dominate one, currently.

Emerson knows exactly what's going on. He takes my hand and we snake through the thick crowd of hugging and kissing couples. I do my best to hold it together. Emerson leads me out of the ballroom and to the stairwell, the door closing behind us. At last, my tears burst forth. I'm pathetic. Letting myself get into such a state over a man.

Emerson sits on a step and pats next to him. I slump down beside him, hugging my knees.

"Sorry," I say. "I'm a bit of a mess." 

He puts an arm around me, hugging me to his side. I place my head on his shoulder, sniffling.

"Still got it bad for him, eh?" He rubs my arm.

"What?"

"Michael. You've always had a thing for him."

I turn my face into his shoulder and let out a sob, nodding. I mumble incoherently about Jane.

"I have no idea what you just said, Frankie," Emerson chuckles.

I sit straight up, dabbing the tears away from under my eyes with the bottom of my dress. "Why'd she have to come back," I sniffle.

"Hey. He doesn't love her. I've talked to him every day since you've been back and all he does is talk about you."

"But he kissed her!"

"Yeah, that's... not good." Emerson grimaces. "But it didn't mean anything. Maybe he couldn't find you?"

"Or maybe he wants Jane back!" I stand, not wanting to participate in this conversation anymore. Even with my heels off, the earth is still moving. I stumble as I step to the door and Emerson jumps up, wrapping a strong hand around my arm to keep me from falling.

We both laugh and I rest my head against his chest. I look up at him and he smiles.

"Emerson?"

He raises his eyebrows, "Hm?"

"Why'd you kiss me?"

"Every woman should be snogged at midnight on New Year's Eve, love."

"Hm."

"I don't know what's going on exactly with Michael right now. Yes, Jane stole a big chunk of his heart when she left, but he got over her. And with your help, sweetheart. You're his best girl. Always have been." He caresses my jaw with the back of his knuckles and gives me a small kiss on the corner of my mouth. 

I turn my mouth to his, giving him all of my lips. I press against him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my heels dangling behind his back in my grasp. Immediately, he grabs my arms and yanks them off, backing away. 

"Frankie," he shakes his head. "You don't want to do this."

Rejected twice in a matter of minutes. Ouch. My head is spinning as I reach for the handle of the door. I push it open and step out of the stairwell. Emerson grabs my arm and yanks me back in, pulling me to him. A hand behind my neck, he presses his forehead to mine, eyes closed.

"I like you Frankie. A lot. But you're Michael's." He opens his eyes and they bore into mine.

"No. I'm not. I don't belong to anyone."

And with that, Emerson softly touches his lips to mine, testing me. Testing how far I'll allow him to go. I drop my shoes and grab him by the jacket, keeping his solid chest against my wine-soaked breasts. I push him back until he is up against the wall and we begin to open our mouths to let our tongues meet. It feels wrong to be kissing Michael's best friend. But I've made no commitment to him. He has no claim over me. I set those thoughts aside and slip my hands into Emerson's jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and arms. 

When it falls to the floor, he holds me by the hips and spins us around, pinning me to the wall. He clasps his hands to mine and brings them above my head. Using one hand to hold both of mine up together, the other hand gingerly caresses down my arm which makes me giggle. His kisses muffle my laugh which then turns into a moan as his fingers graze against the side of my breast.

His mouth travels across my jawline and stops below my earlobe, nipping at the sensitive flesh. He cups my breast with his hand and kneads.

"Michael," I unknowingly sigh, lost in the way he's making me feel.

I realize my mistake when Emerson's lips remove themselves and he places his forehead against my shoulder, his hands dropping to his sides. I bring my arms back down, placing my palms against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Em, I'm drunk."

He groans, frustrated, running a hand through his hair roughly. "Yeah. This isn't right. I can't take advantage of you." He sighs deeply then smiles. "You love Michael. You know that, right?"

"I don't even know, Emerson." I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall.


	10. Purple Shirt of Anti-Sex

I wake up but the room is still dark. Thank god for room-darkening curtains. They're one of the best things about staying in a hotel. I sluggishly sit up and stretch, glancing at the clock radio on the table next to me. It's a little after noon. I yawn loudly and fall back against the pillows.

The events of the previous evening begin to replay in my head, making me wince. Especially remembering the stroke of midnight. And Jane stealing my kiss. I grunt, form a fist and bring it down hard on the bed next to me. A yelp sends me flying off the bed faster than a bat out of hell.

"God, Frankie, what the hell?" Emerson sits up, cupping himself where my mighty hammer of a fist pounded him.

I gasp loudly, covering my mouth. "You?! What... what the?!" I spin around in circles, not really sure what exactly I'm looking for; maybe the portal that will take me back to reality because this is obviously a nightmare.

Emerson rolls into a ball on top of the bed, whining. "Arrrggghh! That really fecking hurt, Frankie! I think I'm going to puke..."

I turn and bolt for the bathroom. I slam the door and lock myself in. Closing the lid to the toilet, I take a seat and wring my hands together.

Emerson is in my room. I squeeze my eyes closed and try to concentrate on just how that could have happened. The last thing I remember was making out with him. But then we stopped, I'm sure of it! And that was that! At least he's clothed from the waist down. I do some kegels, testing for soreness or anything unusually down there amongst my lady bits. But everything feels perfectly normal and in tact. Maybe he just crashed? Fuck.

I stand and burst through the door, ready to interrogate him. He's slipping a shirt on over his head, his muscles looking extra muscly. 

"Em, what the hell are you doing here? Please, please tell me we didn't have sex." I'm close to begging.

"Would that be so bad?" He drops his arms to his sides.

I stare at him for a minute, considering, before shaking my head. "Yes!"

Emerson slowly smiles, gathering up his belongings. "Relax, Frankie. We spent the night talking about Michael. Nothing happened. We fell asleep. That's it."

I glance down and see I'm appropriately clothed, thank goodness. I knew my baggy purple t-shirt adorned with kittens would come in handy someday. Instant sex repeller. I also had packed a skimpier silk pajama set in case midnight had worked out the way I had planned. The kittens win this round.

Someone knocks on the door and we both jump in surprise. I check the peep hole and freak.

"It's Michael!" I whisper loudly for Emerson. "Get out of here; go to the bathroom and take your shit with you!" I pick up his shoes and toss them in his face. Nearly tripping over the bedsheets on the floor, he finally slips into the bathroom and quietly closes the door, leaving it a little ajar.

Michael knocks again and I open the door, smiling.

"Hey you. Where'd you run off to last night?" He places a small kiss on my forehead.

"Me? You were the mysterious one."

He slips past me and enters the room with his hands in his pockets. "I kept texting you but you never replied."

Shit. I left my phone in the room the entire time. I look around and find it on the floor by the bedside table. Picking it up, I press the home button and see I indeed have several texts and a missed call from Michael.

"Sorry," I turn and hold up my phone. "I didn't have it on me last night."

"You took off dancing with Em and then I didn't see either of you again." Michael sits on the end of the bed.

I cross my arms, uncomfortable. He needs to not be in this room right now. "I looked for you, but you seemed to really enjoy Jane's company, so I don't know, I just kind of let you be. You two had a lot to catch up on."

A clatter sounds from the bathroom. Fucking Emerson. Michael's brows furrow and he rises. 

"Frankie, is there someone here?"

"Um. It's Rae. She's just in the bathroom."

His eyes narrow and he starts to chew on his lower lip. "Right. Well I better go hunt down Emerson because its almost time for check out. I haven't been able to get ahold of him either. I guess he hooked up with someone last night."

I shrug, "Yeah maybe."

Michael sighs. "Frankie, I saw Rae in the hall. She's the one who told me which room you were in."

Fuck.

I open my mouth to speak but I'm at a loss for words. Emerson, hearing everything, steps out of the bathroom, all his things gathered in his arms. It looks bad. Really bad. 

Michael clenches his jaw. I almost fear for Emerson but Michael just gives me one look that makes my heart sink, opens the door and steps into the hall. He walks off and the door closes on it's own.

"Sorry, Frankie," Emerson frowns. "I bumped into the shit on the sink and your hair spray fell over."

I suck in as much air as possible and exhale before chasing after Michael. He's halfway down the hall so I power-walk after him, crossing my arms over my chest ensuring my boobs don't fly all over the place.

"Michael, please," I reach out and grab his arm, which he then yanks out of reach.

He turns to face me, his height and demeanor extremely intimidating. "Is that who you want? Emerson?"

"What?" My jaw drops in disbelief.

"It's fine, Frankie. I have no claim over you. You and I were just messing around."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Get back in your room, Frankie. You're practically naked."

I look down at myself, half amused that he would consider me practically naked being swallowed up by this ginormous shirt.

"Michael, stop. I know it looks bad," I try to explain.

He shakes his head and begins to walk away.

"What the fuck, Michael? I have no idea what you want! Jane comes back and suddenly I no longer exist to you!" I yell a little louder than I meant to, but at least it gets Michael to stop again.

He turns and walks back toward me. "I looked for you all night, Frankie."

"You kissed her."

Michael's intimidating stance is knocked down a few pegs. His shoulders drop and he frowns. I can feel my cheeks burning with anger.

He shrugs. "It didn't mean anything."

"You gave her my kiss and you're pissed because Emerson stayed the night in my room. Michael, nothing happened. I saw you kiss Jane, I freaked and Emerson stayed with me. That's it." Okay, not the entire truth, but I'm pissed right now.

"You freaked?" He smirks, using my wording. He steps closer, yet I hold my ground, arms still crossed.

I swallow hard. "I, I wasn't exactly happy."

"What are you saying, Bean?" He takes another step closer and I have to move back or we will collide. I turn back a bit and we continue to move a few more paces until my back is against the wall. He's too close that I can no longer cross my arms. I drop them to my sides, refusing to break eye contact. 

"You gave Jane the kiss you promised me. That's what I'm saying."

"It's more than that though, isn't it?" He lowers his face and he's so close. If I just pushed up on my toes, I could kiss him. "Are you saying that I'm yours?"

"What--" I am suddenly confused and it's becoming difficult to breathe steadily. 

"Say it, Frankie." His mouth is right before mine; our breath caressing the other's lips.

I break eye contact and glance at his mouth. "Say what?" I whisper.

"That I'm yours."

I look back into his eyes. His bore into mine. He brings his hands up next to my head, securing me between the wall and himself. 

"Michael, I don't own you. You're free to do what you want."

"You're wrong about that, Frankie." He presses his lips against mine and I nearly forget to breathe. He licks my lips, commanding entrance and I comply.

This wasn't how I planned it. I merely wanted to explain that Emerson and I only slept and that was it. Knowing I have to head back to the States tomorrow and he has to go off to who-knows-where, I just wanted to end it on a good note; leave things between each other happy and not infuriating.

But this? This isn't too bad, I guess.

Michael cups my face and kisses me harder. I moan into his mouth and he presses his hips against me, his erection ever growing.

The door next to us opens and we instantly break away from each other. An older couple I recognize from the party steps out of their room, luggage in hand.

"Happy New Year!" The man says as they pass us.

We repeat the sentiment, eyes locked on each other.

I cover my chest with my arms and we stand there quietly until the elevator door opens and the other couple is gone.

"I'm sorry," Michael finally says, sinking his hands into his pockets.

I clear my throat, still taken aback by his sudden passion. "For what?"

"For getting upset about Em. We never discussed what this is; us, I mean. I have no right to be mad. And Em is a great guy. He truly is."

"Stop. I told you; nothing happened."

"Okay."

"Look, can I just change my clothes real quick? Please, come back to the room. We can talk."

I knock on the door to my room since I ran out without my key. Emerson opens it, fully dressed and ready to leave. Michael follows me in and I can feel the awkward tension in the air.

"Hey," Emerson says to Michael. "I guess Frankie explained?"

"Yes," I sigh. "Sorted out. Huge misunderstanding. I'll be right back!" I grab my bag and yank it into the bathroom.

Closing the door behind me, I can hear the men chatting. I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank god they've been friends since the dawn of time. They're practically brothers. I quickly dress in jeans and a button up blouse with a camisole underneath so my boobs don't play peek-a-boo. That's the worst. I brush my hair and gather it all into a high ponytail. Lastly, I scrub my teeth in case Michael wants to play tonsil hockey again any time soon.

I'm finally finished and step back into the room. Emerson is on the end of the bed, his face buried into his hands. Michael is nowhere to be seen. He glances up, shaking his head. 

"Frankie," he sighs. "I thought you told him we kissed.


	11. Desktop Tango

"What, he can kiss Jane at midnight but I can't get a kiss at all?!" I'm more than annoyed right now.

"No, Frankie, I told him we made out. After midnight."

I punch Emerson in the shoulder. "You and your big mouth!"

"You weren't complaining last night," he rubs his shoulder where I hit him.

I glare at him. "Stop that."

"Why didn't you say anything? I thought everything was cleared up?"

I groan and stomp my foot. I know I'm acting childish but so is Michael, running away from conflict like that. "I would have told him eventually. Or, I don't know, maybe it is none of his business anyway. Fuck. Is he waiting for you?"

Emerson nods, "Yeah. Sorry Frankie. I really am. I'm gonna go catch up with him."

"Sure. See you later."

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"No, go ahead. Happy New Year."

He leaves the room and I begin to cry. I sniffle as I shove my toiletries into my bag. Why wouldn't Michael give me the opportunity to explain? How would he expect me to feel seeing him kiss the long lost love of his life? And in his very own words, he has no claim over me! He's being a complete ass-wipe.

I defiantly brush my tears away and take a deep breath. I snatch up my bag and my dress and decide to wait for Rae and Carl in the lobby. 

 

*****

 

Later that evening, I convinced Carl to let me borrow his rental car. He made me promise Raegan wouldn't find out. I didn't want to leave tomorrow without saying goodbye to one of my best friends.

I drove to The West End House feeling confident and in charge. I would storm in there and demand he listen to me. Because I can't bare the thought of Michael hating me. My confidence wavered as soon as I stepped foot in the restaurant. The hostess tonight is a gorgeous young woman with raven black hair braided loosely to the side. I begin to wonder if she's kissed Michael too.

I ask her if Michael is in and she gives me a strange look before excusing herself to find him. I take a look around as I slip out of my coat and see there's a nice sized crowd tonight. It seems most patrons are enjoying coffee and dessert since it's nearing closing time.

Michael emerges from the kitchen, the hostess trailing behind him.

"Hi," he says. That's it. Void of all emotion.

"Hi. Can we talk?"

He glances down at his watch and then turns to the hostess. "Go ahead and close up as soon as the last customer leaves, then you can go home."

She gives him a polite smile and nods.

Next Michael faces me again. "Follow me to the office."

I feel like a scolded school girl being sent to the principal. I follow behind him, snaking through the tables of the dining room, passing the kitchen, and down the hallway. He unlocks the office door and holds it open for me. 

"What can I do for you?" He asks as he closes the door for privacy.

"Michael, stop. You know why I'm here. Can I please explain?"

He circles around me and the desk, taking a seat and leans back, hands behind his head, legs extended and crossed at the ankles. I follow his lead and seat myself in front of his desk after placing my coat on the coat rack by the door.

"The whole thing with Emerson," I start off, "well, it shouldn't have happened. Whether or not you and I are or were a thing, or whatever, he's your best friend and it was wrong of us to be kissing for any reason other than a New Year's Eve kiss."

Michael purses his lips but stays silent. This bothers me. Am I really the one who should be on trial here? None of it would have happened had he kissed me instead like he said he would.

"Do you honestly have nothing to say?" I cross my arms and lean back into my own seat. Two can play this childish game.

"I want to know why."

Ah, he speaks.

"Why?"

He sits up and leans his elbows on the desk. Now this feels like an interview. "Yes. Why Emerson?"

No matter how many times I practiced this speech in my head on the way over, I didn't feel prepared to express my feelings in words. "I think you know why."

"My memory isn't what it once was, Bean. Enlighten me."

Smug prick.

"When you kissed Jane, I felt betrayed. Maybe I'm emotionally unstable, but seeing you again, being back here and being with you," I sigh. My words aren't forming right. "The only person who has never disappointed me... let me down."

Michael's eyes finally look away and I drop my head, looking at my hands in my lap.

"So you ran off with Emerson, for what? Revenge?"

I shoot my eyes back up to him, my mouth open in disgust at his accusation. "No! I was upset, that's all. Why am I on trial here? You kissed Jane!" I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat now.

"Where were you?!" He shoots back.

"Looking for you! You should have been looking for me!"

"Come on Frankie. Tell me the whole story." His voice is loud and angry but I'm not backing down. "Did you and Emerson have sex?"

Appalled he would even ask me that, I stand, my chair falling back, crashing loudly to the floor. 

"No! Emerson and I did not have sex! I've ever only had sex with one person my entire life and that person is YOU, Michael!" 

My fury is embarrassing and I can feel tears beginning to form. That's not something I ever planned on admitting. In fact, I'm a little embarrassed by it considering I have dated a few guys and even had a fiancé since my first time with Michael. I exhale all the breath I've been holding in and turn to leave, grabbing my coat. I'd hoped to leave on a good note. But looks like it'll be a sour one instead. So be it.

I grasp the doorknob and pull it open. Michael's hand slams it closed from behind me and locks it. Grabbing me by the upper arm, he jerks me around and pushes me against the door, facing him. He presses his forehead to mine, gently. Our hearts are pounding with adrenaline.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie. Please believe me. I wanted to kiss you. I looked for you, you know I did. It was midnight and, and, I just kissed her because it's tradition. I shouldn't have. Midnight or not, that kiss was meant for you."

He cups my face and I feel the rush of what's coming. The warmth of his breath across my lips makes them thirst for his. I tilt my chin up and his thumb skirts across my lower lip. His eyes close and so do mine. Finally, his mouth is on mine and it's the softest kiss I've ever experienced in my life. It's almost like he's afraid of hurting me.

I want more. I need it. I let my coat fall to the floor and I hold onto his back and press him even closer to me. Kissing him back harder, he groans. His hands move to my neck, his thumbs caressing my jawline. I've never wanted him more than I do right now. My hands slip down his back and come back around to his front. I find his belt and begin to undo it, completely blind with kissing. Michael pulls back for air, gasping and looks down at my busy hands, then back to my eyes.

With his belt undone, I yank it hard until it slips out of his slacks and toss it to the ground. Michael steps back and I step forward, crashing my mouth against his again. I undo the button and zipper of his slacks and keep pushing him back until the desk pins him between the two of us. He can do nothing but sit against it, which is exactly what I want.

I kiss him gently now, slowly lowering his slacks to the floor and then pull back. Fuck me. Zero underwear. My lucky day.

"Frankie," he interjects as I drop to my knees.

I ignore him and take his gorgeous erection in my hand. It always surprises me how wonderfully warm and silky he is. He gasps and throws his head back when my lips meet the tip. I lick and suck, delighting in the sounds he makes. I keep my rhythm steady, bobbing back and forth, occasionally pulling off for a deep breath. I can't keep myself in control enough to breathe steadily through my nose. I just want to devour him, now that I finally have my chance.

"Fuck, Frankie, stop," Michael pushes me away by the shoulders and helps me stand.

He grabs me by the waist and we both turn until I am the one pinned. He lifts me and seats me on the edge of the desk, stepping in between my legs which instantaneously open for him. One hand holds my bottom in place, pressing me forward for him to grind against. The other grasps the hair at my nape, pulling gently to reveal my neck to him. He nips my skin, kissing after each nip to soothe the pain.

My arousal seeps through my panties and if he keeps grinding himself against me the way he is, soon enough he will feel it through my leggings. 

Hands gripping the edge of the desk, I focus on his mouth against my skin. Chills spread throughout me and goosebumps form, causing me to giggle and moan at the same time. 

Michael releases my hair and brings his hands to my sweater dress. I shift on the desk to help him bring it up over my bottom and pull it off of me completely. I love the way my long hair falls across my naked back. It grazes my skin just below the clasp of my bra, which Michael is now working on. He explores my mouth with his tongue as his expert fingers undo the clasp. He doesn't fumble once. Like I said; expert.

Freed from their constraints, Michael takes advantage of my breasts, cupping one with a firm hand and sucking and licking the other. I let my boots drop from my feet and rake my fingers through his auburn locks and sigh. I'm not ready to go home. As I breathe in, my breath catches, causing me to shudder. Michael notices and pulls away.

"Love?" He stands at his full height, hovering over me, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "What's wrong?"

"I leave in the morning," I say softly.

Michael frowns, brushing the side of my face with his knuckles. "Do you have to?"

I giggle and take his hand, holding it in mine against my chest. "If I want to still have a job, yes."

"Just one more week? We can fly back to the U.S. together. I'll get on a connecting flight to LAX at O'Hare."

Kissing his hand, I smile. No one has ever asked me to stay before. "I really can't, as much as I want to."

Michael lifts his hand with mine and drapes my arm behind his neck. "Then let this be our goodbye." He kisses me deeply, leaning into me until I'm forced to lie down on his desk completely, my legs hanging off the edge.

He then proceeds to pepper me with kisses starting from my lips, trailing down my neck, across my breasts and my stomach. My breathing gets heavier the further down he goes. He slips his fingers into the band of my leggings and pulls them, and my panties, down and off, one leg at a time. Michael's hands return to my thighs and he caresses them gently as he separates them further, breathing in the scent of my arousal. He kisses around my sex, his nose dragging across my skin with each movement.

I cover my face with my hands to brace for impact. But god, nothing can prepare me for this. His tongue flattens against my folds and pushes it's way in, like he's slowly licking an envelope to seal. I suck in air through my teeth, silently begging my hips to stay put because I don't want to miss a blessed thing from that talented mouth of his. He sucks on the swollen bundle of nerves eliciting an inaudible string of curse words from me. As he sucks, he slowly inserts two fingers. I bite down on my lip.

"So fucking wet," he mutters against me, his voice deeper than usual. That turns me on even more. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch. He looks up and stares straight into my eyes as he continues to eat me out. I feel him smile against me and I smile back. 

Wrapping his arms under and around my thighs, he holds me steady and presses his tongue hard against my clit, moving back and forth. When he delves his tongue into me again, I start to feel limp. I drop back down and enjoy the steady climb to the top of my imminent release.

Sensing I'm close, damn him, Michael pulls away and I whimper. "I want us to come together," he explains when I glare at him.

I'm okay with that. I sit back up and Michael kicks off his shoes and socks and pushes his pants all the way off before shoving our belongings away from us with his foot. He moves me even closer to the edge of the desk; much closer that I'm sure I'll fall off if he doesn't hold onto me. But he does, he anchors one of my legs over his arm until it's practically over his shoulder. He presses his mouth to mine again and we kiss hard and with a want I don't think I've ever felt before.

I feel him against me and I can feel him gently guide himself until all he needs to do is thrust. Finally, he holds onto my leg and the back of my neck, forcing my eyes to his, and pushes his hips forward. My eyelids flutter from the lovely but torturous rhythm he adopts. We kiss and he begins to pick up speed. Releasing my neck, he brings his thumb to my clit and rubs small circles over it. The delicious warmth of a rising orgasm begins to make my toes curl. 

"Fuck, Michael, don't stop," I beg him.

He watches with hooded eyes and continues to stroke me as he pumps himself vigorously in and out.

"You should see yourself, Frankie. Your cheeks are flushed and your lips are so plump. God, you're gorgeous," he gently grabs me by the neck again and brings my lips to his. 

I moan against his mouth. His words have become my undoing. My knees begin to shake and I feel myself clench around him as he, himself, finds release. We lean against each other in a tight embrace. I bury my face into his neck and swallow back a cry. 

I really do not want to go home. I feel like I'm already there.


	12. Ticklish Lips

Trudging up the pathway to my apartment building, I consider crashing right then and there on the steps. I can barely lift my arm to unlock my door. I'm exhausted and that's an understatement. My mental and psychical well-being are seriously at risk.

It's only three in the afternoon but screw it. Nothing is getting unpacked tonight. I step into my apartment and greet my now dead plant. Shit. Whatever. Bed. I let my coat fall, kick out of my boots and strip all the way to my bedroom until I reach my dresser. Blindly, I grab a t-shirt, stuff my head into it and snake my arms through. I make sure my alarm is set for the next morning. Going back to work after this crazy holiday season is going to suck so bad. But I'll be going back with a smile. 

Because I have a boyfriend.

 

*****

This entire week has been excruciatingly painful. Waking up any earlier than 6 am each day should be considered illegal. Being forced to drink shitty office coffee because you wait until the last minute to get ready and then no longer have time to stop at the coffee shop for legit coffee, *deep breath*, should be illegal.

It's sad that I've fallen back into my daily routine so easily. I hate it. The money I make at my job isn't too shabby. It's nothing to brag about, but I make enough to get by and then some. Every day after work, I visit the 24 hour gym near my apartment. Or, I used to. This past week, I've totally slacked. I've just been way too tired after work. If I nearly fall asleep at the wheel, I head home to sleep instead of working out at the gym. I'd rather be alive than super fit.

Because of the time differences, I haven't been able to Skype with Michael for very long. We text throughout the day, but there's nothing compared to actually seeing the other's face. Monday evening we made it for twenty minutes before I began to nod off. On Tuesday, he was the one nodding off. By Wednesday, we both decided maybe we should wait to Skype again on the weekend. We've made a Skype date for Saturday morning and I've already planned out the sexy pajama set I will be wearing. 

It's finally Friday after every single day feeling like a Monday. A Friday has never felt as good as this one does today. I promised myself I would definitely go to the gym today and work out for an extra hour and spend the rest of the weekend resting and being lazy. There's an hour left until it's time to clock out and I'm becoming anxious. I keep checking my phone but Michael has been rather quiet today. I hope he doesn't forget about our date tomorrow.

I punch in number after number into my Excel workbook slowly since my boss has sent me an email asking me to slow it down a little bit. Well excuse ME, sir. Maybe next time don't hire someone with a typing speed of 100 wpm if you can't handle it.

Finally, it's time to clock out.

I rush home first to change out of my work clothes since I forgot to pack my gym bag. I stuff my puppies into my sports bra and slip on some dark gray yoga pants. After I pull on a red tank top, I step into my boots before I snatch up my coat to head out.

"Oof!" I collide with a wall of muscle the second I step out of my apartment.

Michael catches me, dropping his luggage to the ground, and holds me tight, laughing. My jaw drops and like the baby that I am, my eyes begin to tear up.

"What... Michael?!" I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him hard. He staggers back from my force and I fall with him to the ground, the freshly fallen Chicago snow fluffing around us.

"I was not prepared for that," Michael chuckles as I continue to kiss his beautiful face.

I still can't believe my eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I have to be in LA by Monday and this past week without you was torture, Bean. If you'll have me, I figured I'd come and spend the weekend with you?"

I push myself up and he follows, brushing his arms and legs free of snow. "If I'll have you?? I just... I can't believe you're here!"

Michael notices my get-up and frowns. "Sorry, did you have somewhere to be?"

I grin and grab his hand, tugging him back up the steps to my apartment. "Yes, but I can do it so much better at home now that you're here. Grab your bags and come inside!"

I step back out of my boots and toss my coat back on the couch before locking up the door behind him. He places his luggage on the floor and unbuttons his peacoat, toeing his shoes off. It's taking everything I have not to ravish him instantly.

"You're lucky I came home right after work. What would you have done if I wasn't home?"

"That's a risk I was willing to take," he grins, hands on his hips.

"You must be exhausted," I say as I pick up his bags and head to my room. Michael slips out of his coat and places it next to mine, glancing around my apartment, taking it all in.

"I slept on the flight," he admits. He follows me as I lead him down the hall to the bedroom.

"Oh?" I place the bags at the end of the bed and stand to face him.

He nods and strides right up to me, softly taking my face in his hands. "I don't plan on getting much sleep here, Frankie. I don't want to miss anything." I sigh as his lips meet mine.

This is so much better than Skype.

"I am so glad you're here," I run my hands up the back of his shirt, raking my finger nails teasingly over his skin. I feel his skin prickle with goosebumps and he shivers in my arms.

"Mmm. That feels good," he grins and presses his face into my neck. "So what were you going to do that we can do better here?"

"Exercise," I giggle as he flutters his eyelashes just below my jawline.

Michael moans and nips my skin. "I didn't pack any sweat pants, unfortunately."

"Oh, that's okay. No clothing necessary."

"Perfect." Michael takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the bed. He sits and holds me as I stand in between his legs. "Strip for me, love," he commands.

I blush hard and chew on my lip. I quickly bend over and pull my socks off, throwing them across the room and into the hamper because socks are the least sexy thing to strip off. Now I can get started for real. I cross my arms and reach for the bottom of my tank, bringing it up, slowly. I keep my eyes on Michael's face, watching his expressions. My tank uncovers my constricted breasts and I see him suck the air through his clenched teeth. I pull my tank all the way off, my hair cascading down my nearly naked back.

"That looks uncomfortable, Frankie," he eyes my sports bra.

"It is. I hate it."

"Then let's take it off."

I slowly turn around so my back is to him because honestly, it's not as easy to pull off my sports bra and I'm sure the faces I make as I do so are not very sexy. Pulling it up over my head, I feel Michael's hands ghost over my back and sides. I turn back around and face him, my breasts right before his eyes. I lean down and his eyes follow them. It makes me laugh. I place a finger under his chin and close his mouth for him.

"Pants now," he growls. He grasps the comforter in his hands at his sides, trying to keep them to himself.

I sink my fingers into the waistband of my pants and panties together and slip them down my legs, shimmying out of them. They pool around my feet and Michael takes my hands, helping me to step out without stumbling.

He pats the bed next to him, so I sit. "Lie back," he whispers.

Finally, he touches me. He weaves his fingers with mine and slides in next to me, still fully clothed, which slightly is disappointing, but can I really complain?

"This is so much better than Skype," Michael muses.

I giggle, nodding. "I was just thinking the same thing. When are you getting undressed?"

Michael frowns, pursing his lips together. "Patience, Frankie."

He releases my hand and runs his fingers through my hair. If I were a cat, I swear I would be purring right about now. A chill runs down my spine and my nipples harden. I close my eyes as he runs his fingers down the slope of my nose, then my lips, ever so gently. My lips twitch at his touch, being ticklish, and Michael snickers.

"You're tickling me," I mumble through his fingers.

"I know. I love to hear you laugh."

I feel my entire body blush and open my eyes to look at him.

"Be naked. Please," I coyly grin.

He presses a kiss to my lips and hops out of the bed. "Shall I undress slowly or quickly?"

"Oh god, quickly, please!"

Michael arches his brows and laughs. "So be it."

As soon as he's completely naked, he slides back in next to me. The warmth of his naked body next to mine is the best thing ever. I toss my arm and leg around him and he turns his body towards mine. Chest to chest, we kiss and our hands caress every inch of skin we can reach.

"Can we just stay like this all weekend?" I nuzzle my face into his neck, breathing in deeply.

Michael moans, his hands sliding down my back, cupping my ass. "Yes, please." He hitches my leg more over his hip and grinds himself against me.

I already know this weekend is going to pass in the blink of an eye.


	13. 13: Nectar

I wake up the next morning with a huge smile on my face. I feel Michael behind me, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. His scruffy chin is nuzzled into my neck and I try not to giggle when his lips make a little puffing sound every so often. The morning sun shines brightly into my bedroom and my body aches to stretch but I want to prolong this precious moment for as long as I can.

That lasts about two extra minutes as my bladder is screaming to be released.

I ever-so-gently loosen Michael's grip on me and push his arm off. He sniffles and groans into my neck and his scruff tickles. I snort the air, trying to hold back the giggles. I slap my hand over my mouth and inch my head away from his. I use my foot to lower the bed sheets and finally, I'm able to slip away. I sit up slowly and inch myself off the bed. I lose my balance and fall back against the bedside table. The corner practically impales me in the hip bone.

"Mother of pearl!" I curse a string of obscenities, rubbing my side. I peer at Michael as see him smiling, his eyes wide open.

"Are you okay?"

"Fuck. No. That really hurt." I continue to rub the spot, as if rubbing it will erase the pain.

"Aw. Need me to kiss it?" Michael gives me a cheeky grin as he stretches, spread out across the entire bed. 

I take in the sight before me, suddenly forgetting about my bruised hip. His muscles flex and tighten and he yawns while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Who knew this sex god could be so adorable.

"Come here," he whispers sleepily.

"One minute. I need to pee." I hold up a finger and dance around the bed toward the bathroom. 

As I sit on the toilet, I realize that I'm naked. I mean, I knew I was naked, but this is unusual. I'm only ever naked when I'm taking a shower. Or a bath. I've never been comfortable naked and here I am, bright eyed and bushy tailed, with Michael in the bedroom... naked.

I finish up and wash my hands. The cool water makes me shiver and I sprint back to the bed, jumping in and yanking the covers up. I grab Michael's face, forcing him to feel the coldness that I feel.

"What the--!" Michael pulls away, yanking my hands off of his face. I proceed to place them on his stomach. "Frankie! Stop!" He pulls my hands up and pins them above my head, wide eyed.

I laugh and fight against him as he shoves his chin into the nook of my neck, tickling me with his scruff. "Stop!" I squeal with laughter and try to push him away with my feet, but it's no use. I laugh until tears escape my eyes.

Michael pulls away and collapses next to me. I swing my arm over him and kiss his chest. He snakes his arm behind me and hugs me tight. 

"I love you, Frankie."

I swallow hard and push myself up against his chest. I cross my arms and lean against him, my face before his. He kisses my nose.

"You love me?"

"I do. Very much. I'm sorry, but I do. I don't care if this is fast." I feel his chest rising and falling very quickly. His heart is pounding beneath me and I feel the familiar prickle of tears welling in my eyes.

I kiss him, smiling. He smiles too and we are pretty much just rubbing our smiles together. 

"I love you, too," I whisper, kissing him again. I open my arms and wrap them around him, my chest smashing against his.

Michael's arms wrap around my back, his fingers splaying out, caressing me. He plays with my hair along my back, fingering the tips. It feels good. We stay this way, hugging and caressing until we fall back to sleep.

 

*****

 

The cab pulls over to the curb and Michael pays the driver. He opens the door and takes my hand, helping me out as well. I could have driven, but Michael wanted it to be a surprise and even blindfolded me with his tie. I step out onto the curb with Michael's arm around my waist, nearly stumbling in my high heeled boots.

Michael warned me he was taking me some place nice so I hope my long sleeved sweater dress with tights is appropriate enough. 

"Ready?" He whispers into my ear. He steps behind me, his chin on my shoulder. I nod and he gently pulls the tie off of my eyes.

I look up at the building and gasp. The building itself is unimpressive, but the awning above the door with the restaurant's name is what makes me react.

"Nectar?! Seriously? Michael, how?" I link my arm to his and lean my head on his shoulder. This is too much. 

Nectar is an upscale restaurant that requires reservations weeks in advance. I've never been, considering they serve nine courses and it's over two hundred dollars per person, but I've heard they play Notorious B.I.G. while you're dining.

"I'm Fassy, baby," Michael jokes as he fixes his tie back onto his neck.

God, what a dick. I punch his arm and laugh. I've never been anywhere fancy like this before and I'm afraid I'll blow it by using the wrong fork or something. I follow Michael's lead and we enter the restaurant.

The hostess takes our coats and we are promptly seated in a more secluded area, away from the rest of the dining patrons. A flurry of chefs and waiters set up our table and our courses. Why are there so many forks? I'm feeling rather overwhelmed. I try to peer over the centerpiece of candles to see which utensils Michael uses but I catch his eye and look away, embarrassed. 

We learned about fine dining in middle school but it all went in one ear and out the other. I furrow my brows trying to remember if we start with the utensils on the outside and work our way in or if it goes the opposite way...

"Bean?" Michael chuckles when our third course arrives.

"Hmm?" I frown at the soupy substance put before me. It's blue.

"Are you okay? You seem... uncomfortable?"

I play eenie meanie miney moe with the spoons and pick up the winner, tasting the creamy blue liquid. Ugh. I make a face and Michael grins.

"Why is this soup blue? Soup shouldn't be blue, Michael."

"You don't like it here?"

I don't want to hurt his feelings, but this place is strange. They don't provide you with a menu and that just doesn't sit well with me. 

I shrug and fake a smile. "It's... it's not bad. No, no, it's fine. Can't wait to see what's for dessert."

"You don't like it. I'm sorry. I don't do this dating thing well. I wanted to impress you. I thought girls liked being treated like princesses?" Michael loosens his tie as a waiter refills his water.

"Michael, I'm sorry! It's not that I don't appreciate it; I really do. This is a wonderful place but... I feel like a fish out a water. I don't even know if I'm using the correct spoon!" I hold my spoon up and show him.

"That's the teaspoon."

"See?" I smile and sigh. "You don't need to impress me Michael. I'm already yours. And I'm yours for who you are, not for what your money can buy me."

Michael places his spoon down and leans forward. "Do you wanna get out of here?"

"God, yes."

 

*****

 

Michael and I sit closely together on a bench in front of the food truck we just purchased Chicago style hot dogs from; my treat.

"I can't believe you've never had a Chicago dog before," I tease, taking a big bite. I chew slowly and watch Michael as he eats his. 

"It's good. Never had a date buy me one before," he winks.

I take a sip of our shared Coke and hand it to him. He finishes his dog in three bites as I still chew my first. While he sips the Coke, he watches as I take my second bite. He swallows his drink and grins at me, narrowing his eyes.

"What?" I mumble with my mouth full.

Michael's grin grows and he chuckles. "Could you be a little less sexier when putting something phallic in your mouth, please?"

I choke on my food and cover my mouth. I swallow my bite and laugh. "I'm sorry, what?"

Michael just laughs and watches as I cross my eyes and sloppily take another bite. I chew with my mouth open and moan. "Better?" 

"Much. I'm no longer horny. Nice job, Frankie," Michael gives me a thumbs up.

I chuckle lightly and lean my head against his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me while I finish my dinner. Michael offers me a drink and I take a sip as he holds the cup. My vision is temporary blurred as a fat snowflake lands on the very tip of my lashes. I glance up and exclaim with glee. Of course, being Chicago, winter likes to start late and overstay it's welcome, well through spring break. The snowflakes float down lazily and I delight in watching them land on my knee, observing the unique shapes until their beauty melts away from my body heat. I shiver against Michael and he rubs his gloved hand up and down my arm. 

"Let's go home, Bean," Michael presses his lips to my ear. 

We discard our trash and stroll down the sidewalk, hand in hand. There's not a taxi cab in sight but we're in no rush. I open Michael's coat and wrap my arm around his waist. He closes his coat around me and we walk together slowly. Every so often, Michael stops, stopping me with him, and he'll kiss me. I turn so we are chest to chest and I'm wrapped completely in his coat. He nudges my nose with his, encouraging me to lift my chin so our lips can meet. Sometimes his kisses are soft and sweet. But sometimes, like this one, they're much stronger, as if he's parched and I offer adequate hydration. He squeezes me tight before releasing me and we continue on our way hand in hand again.

After successfully hailing a cab and making it back home, Michael locks the front door behind us and we shed our coats, kicking our shoes off. We both toss our coats to the couch, too lazy to hang them up. Something small clatters to the floor. I watch as it rolls under the coffee table. Michael kneels instantly to retrieve it.

"What's that?" I ask as I begin to remove my earrings.

"Uh," Michael stands, clutching whatever it is in his fist. "Just something I always carry with me."

"Yeah? Like a good luck charm?" My interest is piqued. I pull the backing off my other earring and cup them in my hands, waiting for him to show me. "So what is it?"

Michael blushes and opens his palm, holding his hand out. I step closer, eyeing his special token. My lips part as I realize what it is and memories from our teen years hit me hard. In his palm is a tiny heart shaped rock I gave to him as a joke after Jane moved away.

_"She left and took my heart with her," he grumbled. We sat on a hill overlooking the village, shoulder to shoulder._

_I'd been fingering the little rock on the ground next to me and handed it to him. "Here. It's almost an exact replica," I joked._

_"Gee, thanks, Bean." He smiled through his tears though, and pocketed it._

"You... this... is this the same one?" I inquire.

Michael closes his hand and grabs his peacoat, slipping it back into the pocket. He turns to face me and I can tell he's not really quite sure what to say.

"It is, isn't it? The rock I gave you... what, twenty years ago? You've had that thing for... twenty years?"

Michael shrugs. "It's my good luck charm and it works. Why wouldn't I keep it?"

"Oh, that's all it is?"

Michael smirks and closes the distance between us. "No. It's not. It's more than that. I don't think you understand how much you've always meant to me, Frankie." He cups my elbows and pulls me to him.

I'm at a loss for words. I place my palms to his chest and push myself up with my toes, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Michael bends at the knees and picks me up, wrapping his arms around me tightly. My legs wrap around his waist and we kiss our way to the bedroom.

Michael lowers me back to the floor and helps me slip out of my dress and tights. Next he loosens his tie but doesn't remove it. He unbuttons his dress shirt and tosses it aside before removing his slacks, briefs, and socks. His erection bobs in place, enticing me. Pulling the tie off then, he beckons me to him, pressing his lips to the swells of my breasts once I'm close enough. He lifts me, bridal style, and places me on the bed before climbing over me.

"Take your bra off," he commands.

The fire in his eyes make me move faster than I ever have before. I remove it and before it even hits the ground, Michael has my arms pinned above my head. Using the tie, he wraps it around my wrists and my headboard, securing me in place. He gives it a nice solid tug to make sure it isn't loose and then his fingers, torturously slow, run down my forearms, past my elbows and into the sensitive dips of my armpits before reaching my ticklish ribs.

I let out a soft shriek. "Please don't tell me you tied me up just to tickle me to death," I beg.

With hooded eyes, Michael lowers his face to mine. His erection presses against my thighs and I spread my legs a little so I can feel him against my sex. Michael flicks his tongue over my lips and forces it in. I moan against his mouth and fruitlessly tug against my bonds. His takes my throat in his hand and kisses and nips his way down my jaw. His hand leads the way down to my chest. With one breast in his hand, the other one receives attention from his mouth. He sucks the pert bud of my nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue around it and sucking. His hand kneads my other breast and I bite my lip to contain my cries. The scruff of his chin is rough and I know there will be rashes all over my body if this is how rough he continues to be.

Michael turns his attention to the other nipple, treating it with the same affection. Instead of kneading my other breast this time, he moves off of me and his hand travels downward over my belly. I gasp when I feel his fingers slip past the waistband of my panties. He wastes no time and runs his fingers along my slick folds. He sinks two digits into me, slowly, while still nipping at my now tender chest.

I can feel my arousal coating his fingers and he moans against my breast, the vibration making my cunt clench, more arousal seeping out of me. His thumb begins to run over my clit and my back arches without warning. Michael sits up and removes his hand. He pins my hips to the bed and tsks-tsks me.

"Don't move, Frankie." His voice is so deep now, he's practically growling.

Jesus Christmas, I have never been more turned on in my life. 

I challenge him anyway and sway my hips, wanting his to meet mine. Michael laughs once, humorlessly, and pins my hips down even harder.

"Don't make me punish you, love." He smirks and I can't take my eyes off his mouth. I need it on me.

"What if I want you to?" I tease back, licking my lips.

His eyes narrow and he moans. "Do you enjoy being spanked, Frankie?"

I giggle and turn my head away from him. I'm blushing harder than ever. I feel him slip my panties down my hips and off, one leg at a time. I don't dare make eye contact with him right now. I close my eyes and focus on his fingers touching me. He massages my inner thighs, coaxing them apart. Easily done. I feel the mattress dip between my legs as he roots himself there. One hand on each thigh, he spreads me open and tosses my legs behind his back. I take a breath and hold it in. 

He runs his tongue flatly over my slit and I swear I mewl like a kitten. He tongues my clit hard and slips his fingers inside me again. He strokes my walls and hooks his fingers, rubbing me right where I ache for him. I let my breath go and begin to pant. Michael drapes an arm across my stomach, holding my down.

Removing his fingers, he widens my thighs and laps at my cunt with long strokes. I cannot watch him; it's too much. Seeing him lustfully gaze at me as he eats me out would end this entire thing all too soon. Oh no, Mama wants the slow build.

Michael's tongue pushes into me and I groan. He swirls it around before retreating to suck on my clit roughly. The scruff around his mouth is sending me over the edge. 

My toes begin to curl and my back tries arching again to no avail. I can feel the start of an orgasm; the delicious warmth beginning at my core. My knees begin to quiver across Michael's back. Knowing how close I am, he removes his arm off my stomach and holds onto my thighs, digging his mouth against me harder and with more effort.

"Oh god, yes! Oh, Michael! Please!" 

The ache in my knees makes me stretch my legs out. My ass rises off the bed and Michael holds me up against his mouth, sucking away. An orgasm rips through me and I cry out. My eyes roll back and I fall slack, giving in completely to Michael's mouth, which happily laps and sucks up everything I have to offer.

Michael rises to his knees, sitting back on his heels, with his handsome shark grin. He wipes his mouth against the back of his hand and moves over me, kissing my lips. I taste myself on him and open my mouth for a deeper kiss. 

I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I could fall asleep now and sleep an entire month, blissfully. That was, hands-down, the best orgasm I think I'll ever have.

"How are you," Michael whispers, placing kisses on the corners of my mouth.

I smile sleepily and sigh. "Perfect."

Michael tugs on the tie and releases me from the headboard. Discarding the tie, he kisses my red wrists and pulls me to my side so we are chest to chest. 

"You... are... amazing," I mumble into his neck, kissing his skin. 

Michael hitches my leg over his side and grinds himself against me. "Have you recovered?"

"Hmm?" I nuzzle my face against him, running my hands over his back. "Yes, I think so."

"Good." He grabs my neck and brings my lips to his for a hard kiss. "Turn over."

I turn to all fours and look back at him. Michael moves behind me and grabs me by the hips. I watch as he sucks on his fingers before inserting them into me gently, to make sure I'm still wet for him. Lowering my head on the bed, I lift my ass for him and he teases me with the head of his cock, rubbing it over my slit and clit. Slowly, he pushes himself in and I moan as he fills me to the hilt.

"Fuck, Frankie," Michael groans, throwing his head back. "You feel so good."

Grasping my hips, Michael begins to pump himself in and out, vigorously. I wrap my hands around the bars of my headboard to keep my head from pounding into it. It helps him hit me hard, which I love. His fingers dig into my skin as he begins to fuck me even harder. The slapping sound of our skin and the scent of sex fill the air.

Michael removes a hand from my hip and wraps his arm around the front of me, finding my clit. The second he begins to caresses it roughly, I buck against him.

"Oh god, don't stop," I beg of him.

My face is smashed against my pillows and I grunt with each thrust, loving every second. Michael brings up his other hand and smacks my ass cheek, surprising me. I yelp but then moan into my pillow.

"Do you like that?" His voice is so gravelly and deep. He keeps pounding me, and my knees are beginning to shake again. I don't think I'll be able to stay propped up like this for much longer.

"Yes... yes..." I moan.

Michael stops fondling my clit and smacks my other ass cheek this time. The sting makes me cry out.

"Frankie, your ass is so gorgeous, all red and swollen." He pulls out and kisses my burning cheeks before roughly tossing me over to my back.

I feel spent but I don't want this to end, either. Michael hovers over me, kissing his way up from my cunt to my mouth. Kissing me deeply, he lines himself up with my entrance and shoves his cock in. He breaks away from our kiss and yanks my leg up against his chest, pummeling me hard. Leaning forward, he hits that magical spot that makes my core grow hot. 

I reach up behind and me grasp the headboard. "Oh! Fuck!" I feel myself clench around him and all my muscles tighten, expanding my orgasm.

"Frankie... Fra..." Michael's face contorts and he groans loudly, his body slapping against mine. As he grunts, I feel himself shoot into me as my walls swallow him up.

He slows down his pace, still groaning. I loosen my grip on the bars and run my hands through my hair, gripping it at the scalp. 

"Holy hell, Michael. God..." My cheeks hurt from smiling.

Michael collapses on top of me, panting heavily. He sighs and kisses my temples, between my eyes, my nose, my chin, and then my swollen lips. "I love you."

We curl against each other and pull the comforter over us, succumbing to exhaustion.


	14. 14: Drowning Mermaid

In the back pew of the little small-town church, I sit alone, holding a rather large boulder in my lap. The boulder doesn’t faze me one bit. The rest of my family sits at the front, closer to the pulpit where Michael awaits in a tacky powder blue tuxedo. The suit itself is tacky, but placed on his body, it looks amazing. He can seriously pull anything off. I find myself wanting to pull _that_ off of him. Naked Michael is always better. I smile and my heart flutters when he makes eye contact with me. He bares all of his teeth, grinning so broadly. I try to stand, but the boulder keeps me in place. It’s not particularly heavy, but it won’t budge. 

A brittle old woman sits at the organ and begins to play the wedding march. I’m freaking out because hey, this is my cue. But the boulder will not let me rise. I’m panicking and wondering why no one will get up and help me. Even Michael just stays where he is. 

The double doors behind me open and everyone rises to face Raegan, dressed from head to toe in the most gorgeous wedding gown I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I gawk at the mermaid gown hugging her perfect body. It’s fitted at the waist and flares from the knees, trailing behind her. Her hair is rather bland compared to the gown, but she somehow still looks stunning. I’m wondering why she’s wearing that when my dad steps next to her, taking her arm in his. MY dad. He kisses her on the cheek and together, they walk arm in arm down the aisle toward a beaming Michael. I’m shouting and instantly objecting the entire wedding from my spot but I’m completely ignored. 

Next thing I know, I’m wearing the wedding dress Rae just had on, and I’m in the ocean, trying my hardest to keep my head above the water. Waves keep crashing down on my head, sending me spiraling down into the deep blue. The only way I can stop from being dragged down into the water is to get the dress off of me. I struggle, while holding my breath, to tear the fabric away from my body. I tear and rip as best as I can.

A hand grabs me by the arm and lifts me out of the water. It’s Michael and I’m back on land. I spit out whatever water was stored in my mouth and look up at him, grateful for the rescue. 

“This isn’t going to work,” he frowns, shaking his head. 

I feel wet between my thighs. I figure it’s just because I was drowning in the middle of the ocean, but despite Michael just casting his doubts on me, I feel good. Like, really good. 

I’m slowly coaxed out of my dream by Michael cupping my sex and kissing my neck. Thank god. I groan and turn towards him. 

“Mmmm, good morning, Bean,” Michael mummers into my ear with a kiss. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

“This is a rather nice way to wake up,” I giggle as I stretch quickly before snuggling into him. He runs his hands down my back and cups my ass, pulling me hard against him. “Ah, morning wood. As usual.”

“Seems to only happen when I’m with you,” he smirks.

“Lies,” I snicker as I grasp him gently.

We’d fallen asleep naked but I had gotten up to pee and threw on a t-shirt because I was cold. I grabbed whatever was on the floor and now I can see that it’s Michael’s Georgetown Hoyas shirt. I love that it smells like him.

Michael cups my breast roughly, peppering kisses across my jaw, his growing beard scratching my sensitive skin. I teasingly stroke his already hard shaft and rub my thumb across the tip, a bead of pre-cum smearing across it. Michael’s mouth comes closer to my own and since we’d fallen asleep directly after sex, I hadn’t had a chance to brush my teeth clean of the hotdog dinner we had.

I turn my face away with a finger to his lips. “Uno momento, por favor.” I scoot out of bed and scamper off to the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee. After peeing, I stick my head out of the bathroom. “Do you want to brush your teeth?”

“I already did.” He brings his hands behind his head, waiting patiently, legs crossed at the ankles.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Nice. Real nice. This was planned. Not spontaneous.” 

Michael chuckles and shrugs with his hands still behind his head. I pounce back onto the bed and straddle him. His warm cock rests along his lower stomach and I tease it with my cunt, grinding gently over it. I lean forward and run my hands up his arms and kiss him square on the lips. He moans against my mouth and brings his hands to my hips. Our tongues lovingly caress each other as Michael struggles a little to sit up. I back off and once he’s sitting straight up on the edge of the bed, he brings me back to him, cradling the back of my head to kiss me deeply. He helps me lower myself onto him and he sinks into me deliciously slow. I wrap my legs behind him and he wraps his arms around my back, holding me against him. I grind my hips and we kiss while hugging. I rake my fingers across his scalp before trailing them down the sides of his face, loving the prickle of his scruff against my skin. Michael gathers the bottom of my t-shirt, _his_ t-shirt, and pulls it up over my head. I hold my arms up and he pulls it off completely, discarding it to the floor. He wraps his arms around me again and we hold each other, kissing. My breasts smash against his chest and his hands rub my back and my ass, every so often pulling my thighs harder against him. 

There is no thrusting, no spanking, no teasing or wanting more. We are merely one in the flesh and I can feel my eyes begin to water knowing that this will be the last time we will see each other face-to-face for quite some time. I’m thankful for Skype and FaceTime, but nothing beats this kind of intimacy. I’ve never wanted to be with a man as badly as I’ve ever wanted to be with him. And not just sexually, but intimately. In a soul-mate kind of way. Even with my ex-fiancé, I never felt this way; this ultimate desire to spend the rest of my life with just one person.

“Hey,” Michael whispers, tucking my hair behind my ear. He cups my face between both of his hands and presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t cry, please.” He gently kisses my lips and even though he told me not to, I can’t help it. The tears burst forth and stream down my cheeks.

I wrap my arms around him tightly and bury my face into his neck. He combs his fingers through my hair and down my back before hugging me tightly as well. He shifts under me and hooks his hands under my thighs. Before I realize it, he’s standing, taking me with him. All he does his turn and gently place me back against the bed and climb on top of me. 

“I love you, Frankie. I don’t want to go.” He presses himself back into me with a little force and I moan, grabbing on to his biceps.

“Then don’t,” I sniffle. My vision is blurry with tears, but I see his smile; the lady-killer smile that constantly makes me weak in the knees. He nudges my nose with his own before kissing me again. 

We spend the rest of the morning tangled together in the bed sheets until his cab arrives to take him to O’Hare. He shrugs into his pea coat and tightens his scarf around his neck. I chew my lips, trying hard to keep my tears at bay. My eyes burn from the tears wanting so badly to escape again. Stepping out into the brisk winter air, we kiss one last time before the cabbie grabs his bags and puts them in the trunk. 

Michael squeezes my hand and swallows hard. “I’ll text you when I land. I’ll miss you, Bean.”

I can’t speak. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll just turn into a big blubbery mess. Who the hell am I now? I don’t cry over men. But I can’t bear to see him leave. My heart is threatening to break out of my rib cage, wanting to grab onto him and pull him back to my chest where he belongs. I nod and smile, giving him one last tiny wave as he slips into the cab.

I don’t wait to watch as the cab drives off. The second the cabbie puts the car in gear, I step back into my apartment and lock the door. I lean my back against it and slide down to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest. I would love to say that I went about my day happy as a clam but then I would be lying. Once I finally pull myself out of my pity party on the floor, I spend the rest of the day in bed, snuggled in Michael’s Georgetown Hoyas shirt he left behind, holding my phone in my hand, waiting for his text.


	15. 15: Masturbatus-Interruptus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler for Inglorious Basterds.

Several hours later, my phone buzzes in my hand, waking me up. I rub my eyes and stretch before unlocking the screen. I smile at the text from Michael accompanied by a selfie. He’s not a selfie kind of guy, so to receive this rare treasure means a lot to me. His flight was boring and uneventful, thankfully. And he said he misses me. I text him back to let him know I miss him too and that I hope we can Skype sooner than later.

 

*****

 

My days drags on. And on. And on. I get to speak with Michael for ten minutes on Wednesday. Then again on Saturday. Sunday evening, I cuddle up on my couch and flip through the channels, shoveling spoonfuls of sugar free coffee ice cream down my throat. Michael’s face fills the screen and in the midst of another bite, the ice cream drops off my spoon and into my lap. Inglorious Basterds is halfway through and luckily I catch it during Michael’s last scene. I wipe off my lap and put aside the container of ice cream, leaning forward to watch his face; to listen to him speak. Good god, he’s beautiful. I wrap my arms around myself and sit in silence, absorbing his voice. I quickly change the channel before his character is killed and grab my phone. I sit back, crossing my legs beneath me and attempt to call him. 

After two rings, he picks up, much to my surprise. “Hey baby doll.” I can hear his smile.

“You just died and I needed to talk to you.”

“What now?” He chuckles.

“Inglorious Basterds.”

“Ah. I see. Well, I’m here. Just wrapped up for the evening. And lucky for you, I’m headed back to the hotel.” His voice lowers to a deep whisper and my cunt reacts, clenching at the sound.

I lick my lips. “And we can Skype?”

“We better Skype. Give me twenty minutes and I’m all yours for the evening.”

We hang up and I rush to the bathroom to comb out my hair and pin it back. I consider shaving my legs, but is that necessary? There won’t be close ups of my legs… but, oh, god… I hop in the shower and quickly give my pussy a little once-over with my razor. Maybe there won’t be any sexual shenanigans, but better safe than sorry. And if we’re being safe, then fuck it, I’ll shave my legs too.

I consider answering his Skype call completely naked, but I’m not brave enough, plus it’s cold as hell. I pull on some leggings and a camisole and pull on a cable knit sweater to keep warm until his words make me too hot for clothing. I sit up in my bed, my back against the headboard, laptop propped open in front of me at my feet. I fidget, waiting for the chimes of his call. When they finally sound, I accept and beam seeing his sleepy face on the screen.

“Hey you,” I coo. I pick up my laptop and bring it closer, setting it on my knees. “You look tired.”

“Yeah, I am. This movie is killing me already.” He rolls his head back, and runs his hands through his hair. His beard is nicely trimmed. It’s not a full beard, but it’s more than just scruff. And it’s a lovely ginger color. “I miss you, Frankie.”

“I miss you, too.” 

“Let me see you. I want to see you. Naked.”

I feel my cheeks redden. “Now?”

Michael smirks. “Yes.”

“What do I get out of this?”

Michael narrows his eyes at me, smiling. “Tit for tat. We’ll take turns.”

“Okay, I can deal with that.”

I lay the laptop down on the bed and shrug out of my sweater, feeling embarrassed already. Michael sits back in his bed with his arms behind his head, smiling.

“I’ve never done this before, so it’s a little strange for me,” I laugh.

Michael cocks his eyebrows. “I’ve never done this before either. Are you assuming I have? Do I give off that vibe?”

“Uh, yes. Yes you do.”

Michael scoffs. “Well, I can assure you, I have never watched a woman undress for me on Skype before.”

I narrow my eyes and continue to slip my sweater off my arms and toss it to the ground. “Okay then. Your turn.”

Michael unbuttons his dress shirt and pulls it off way faster than I discarded my sweater. “Your move.”

“Jeez. I didn’t know it was a race.” I lie back and slip my fingers into my waist band and slowly pull my leggings down over my ass, baring my navy blue lace panties, and kick them off. I’m sure Michael got an eyeful but I’m also sure he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

I cross my legs back underneath me and wiggle my brows at him.

He shakes his head, smiling, and mirrors my previous actions after undoing his belt. He now sits in boxer briefs and socks and I sit in a thin pair of panties and my camisole. 

Michael raises his eyebrows, his smile growing wider. 

“Panties or top first?” I ask him, lowering my voice so it’s more seductive.

“Top.”

I cross my arms and snatch the bottom of my cami, pulling it up slowly until my chest is free. I toss the article of clothing aside and try my hardest not to cross my arms across my breasts in embarrassment. I clear my throat, not meaning to, and blush. 

“Open your legs,” Michael leans forward towards the screen, his eyes heavily lidded.

I part my legs, one on each side of my laptop and place my palms on my thighs.

“Mmm. Frankie. You’re a bit damp, sweetheart.” He licks his lips and removes his socks.

I cross my arms and cock my head to the side in disapproval. “Socks are a little unfair.”

“Would you rather I keep them on?”

I snicker and climb up to my knees, inching my panties down slowly.

“I wish I could touch your curves right now,” Michael sweeps one hand down the side of his face in frustration, scratching his beard.

“Mmm. I wish you could too. Your turn.”

I sit back on my heels, hands on my knees as he slides down his briefs, his fully erect member springing free. My mouth begins to salivate at the sight and I lick my lips.

“You seem hungry,” he teases me.

I half smile and let my hands begin to wander up my thighs and across my stomach. “I’m starving.”

“Part your knees,” he commands me.

Still sitting back on my heels, I spread my knees apart, letting him get a good view of my sex. The cool air hitting the dampness that has already pooled within my lips causes me shiver. I splay my fingers out and lead them up my torso and across my breasts. Michael’s jaw clenches and his reaction makes my head feel like it’s spinning. My heart is racing and I am having a hard time thinking straight. 

“Touch yourself, Frankie. Imagine it’s me.”

“Where should I start?” I ask, cheekily, keeping my voice low. 

Michael bites his lip as he grins. He gently takes himself in his hand and lazily strokes. “Start with your tits.”

Lips parted, I bring my hands up and grope myself, lifting my breasts, kneading them, and tugging on my nipples. I watch Michael’s face the entire time. His chest begins to rise and fall much faster. “How’s this?” I ask.

“Perfect. Now move further down. Touch your wetness for me and then suck on your fingers.” He strokes himself a little harder.

I chuckle nervously but do as he asks. Keeping one hand on my right breast, I lower my left hand down my belly and teasingly dip two fingers into my sex. I gasp at the intrusion and bring my fingers back up to my mouth. They’re glistening with my arousal and with hooded eyes, I make sure to keep eye contact with Michael as I slip my fingers into my mouth and suck on them. I tilt my head to the side, enjoying the show I’m putting on for him. I arch my back so my chest stands out more and moan before returning my fingers to my aching cunt.

“I want you, Michael…” I groan as my fingers graze my swollen clit.

“Fuck, Frankie. I’d do anything to have you here right now.” I notice he has picked up his pace and I can see a little pearl of pre-cum on the tip of his penis. I lick my lips, wishing I could taste it.

Michael curses as he pumps harder and harder. I hook my fingers inside of me and stroke myself, imagining his own talented fingers.

“I wish your beautiful mouth could suck me off right now,” he growls. 

“I want to taste you so bad,” I whine as I drop my other hand to my sex to fondle my clit.

A curt knock disrupts the both of us. I stop in mid-finger-fucking and watch as Michael curses and slams his laptop closed, ending our call.

Well. Masturbatus-interruptus.

I’m too thrown off to continue on my own. I sit back against my headboard and cover myself with a blanket wondering what the hell happened. Twenty minutes pass before I finally close my own laptop and slip into a pair of pajamas. I chew my lip and tell myself not to cry. I check my phone over and over for any calls or texts. Maybe I should call him? No. He’ll call. He has to.

Minutes turn into hours. And I force myself to try to fall asleep angry. Angry for being left hanging. Angry at Michael for not explaining. But then the anger turns into sadness. Is this how it’s going to be? Quickies via Skype? I finally drift off, my cheeks wet from crying.

 

*****

 

I wake to two messages from Michael.

**I’m so sorry, Bean. Work never ends. Had some shit come up suddenly that needed to be taken care of. Forgive me?**

**I love you. I’m so sorry. Text me when you wake up.**

I sigh deeply and hug my phone to my chest. I send him a quick reply letting him know I’m not angry at him, just a little hurt because it was so abrupt. I also tell him that I love him, too.

I stretch and shower with a smile on my face. Though it’s Monday and another grueling work week lies ahead, I’m a happy little clam. Michael loves me.


	16. Surprise

It's been months. Three flipping months that have dragged on and on. It certainly feels longer and I'm desperate for a vacation from work. 

It's been a few days since I've spoken to Michael. He's still in LA shooting. I can't say that things have been well between us. I knew distance would drive a wedge into our relationship but I never imagined it would be so soon considering how strongly we started out. Is it love or has it always been lust? Love lasts, lust wanes. 

I sit back on the weight bench and rest. I try keeping my mind off Michael by exercising. I've had a lot of time to reflect now that I'm not constantly blinded by Michael's good looks. I'm not sure I like who I've become. Why do I feel like I need to speak to him every day? I've never wanted to be the needy clingy girlfriend and surely that's the last thing Michael needs. I determine my own happiness. No one else.

"Hey." A dark haired man greets me as he passes by to return his weights. 

I've seen him around a lot lately but we've never spoken. I give him a smile and stand to return to my reps. 

He plants his weights back where they belong, then turns to face me. "I'm Frank."

I give a little laugh and tell him my name. "Everyone calls me Frankie."

"You're kidding? Frank and Frankie." He smiles, placing his hands on his hips, watching me raise the barbell, extending my arms. "Would you mind spotting me when you're done?"

"Oh sure," I huff as I lower the bar. "I almost finished."

"Great, thanks. I'll be over here." He points and I nod.

After I return my weights and wipe down my bench, I join Frank and we chit chat while I spot him. He's actually pretty cool and funny. He's an eighth grade science teacher and a huge fan of the Bears. I've never made a friend at the gym before but no time like the present.

At the end of the evening we've exchanged numbers. By the time I get home, my phone is already ringing and it's Frank.

"Hello?" I answer as I unlock my front door.

"Hi, sorry. I just got home and well, I was hungry and I thought maybe you might be hungry too?"

Confused, I step into my apartment and lock the door, dropping my gym bag to the floor.

"You still there, Frankie? Sorry, I shouldn't have called."

"No! Yes, I'm here. It's fine. I was just going to heat up some leftovers..."

"Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you."

"Wait," I chuckle at his awkwardness. "Did you want to meet somewhere?"

"Yeah, even if it's just coffee. Sorry, I'm not good at this."

"I'm just confused."

"I'm asking you out, Frankie. I just thought we hit it off and, I dunno. You're cute. You make me laugh."

"Oh..." I walk over to the couch and slowly sit, placing the pieces together.

"So would you like to? Go get coffee now, I mean?" He sounds so hopeful.

I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall and see it's nearing ten. I was going to try to call Michael.

Michael.

"Frank, I'm sorry, I'm actually seeing someone."

"Oh, yeah. Okay sorry. I'll just see you around the gym, I guess. Sorry." 

Before I can stop him, he ends the call.

I sit and stare at my phone for several minutes, still a bit stunned. Flattered, for sure, but definitely stunned. It's been a while since anyone's asked me out. Frank was awkward but endearing. I smile at how flustered he was, just asking someone like me out for coffee. He was sweet.

I scroll through my contacts and click on Michael's name. As expected, I reach his voicemail.

"Hey, it's me. Just checking in to see how you've been doing. I miss you. Bye." Short and sweet. To the point.

I did miss him. But I didn't feel like crying anymore. I determine my own happiness.

Being Friday, I call up Jess from work and we make plans to meet up at a local bar for the evening. I ditch the leftovers and shower, getting myself dolled up for a girls’ night out. It’s a rare occasion and I’m going to make the best of it. Deciding on a snug little top paired with skinny jeans, Jess buzzes my apartment just as I step into some insensible heels. Go big or go home. Considering it’s barely spring, I yank a jacket off the coat rack so I don’t freeze to my death. Jess buzzes again. I glance at my reflection before reaching the door. Damn. I look good. 

Double-checking for my keys and phone, I open the door and greet Jess, who, as a mother of two, rarely gets a girls’ night out, herself. She herself has decided on the ‘go big or go home’ motto as well.

“Well, we just look absolutely slutty tonight, don’t we?” Jess teases with a big giddy grin.

We arrive to the bar and show our IDs at the door, receiving star shaped stamps on our hands for proof of age. It may be cool outside, but inside with the massive swarm of drunk bodies, it’s a lot warmer. I remove my jacket and drape it on the back of a chair and seat myself next to Jess.

“God, I’m starving for something other than hot dogs and macaroni and cheese!” She browses over the menu and gasps happily. “Bacon cheeseburger sliders. Score!”

I laugh at her enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t you prefer something adult sized?”

“You’re right…” She taps her chin and settles on one half pound bacon cheeseburger instead.

I order a chicken wrap and sweet potato fries with a light beer. Jess pairs some wine with her burger.

We sit back in our seats and people watch, occasionally chit-chatting about co-workers and family life. Jess knows I’m not close to my family, so she doesn’t ask much about them. I’m more than content just listening to her babble on and on about her family, though. Her kids seem like little terrors but the way her face lights up when she speaks of them tells me it’s all worth it. She’s proud of her little brats. I’ve seen photos of them around her cubicle. Her son looks like her, but she says her daughter looks like her husband. Sometimes I find myself daydreaming about starting a family with Michael. I know we are nowhere near that phase in our relationship, but I can’t help it. It’s just a silly daydream. Like a teenager practicing her future signature when she marries her crush and takes his last name. I like to imagine we’d have a girl first and that she’d be a little bit gingery, just like Michael, and have his blue eyes. I don’t think she’d look much like me at all.

After finishing our meals, Jess drags me up to the dance floor in the middle of the bar. Believe me, I struggled against her. I eventually gave in because I’m not out here just for myself. My friend deserves to live it up tonight.

Drunk women are crazy. We’re surrounded by them and we are completely fishes out of water. Jess drove, so she’s stopped drinking after two glasses of wine. I’ve only had two beers, so a slight buzz hasn’t even begun yet. We’re dancing, laughing at our ridiculous moves, when a fight breaks out next to us. Someone bumped into someone else’s drink, spilling it all over them. At least that’s the gist we get observing the little brawl. Hair is yanked and someone’s hoop earring slides across the floor. Those on the dance floor begin crowding around the two ladies at it. Jess is snickering, her hand over her mouth.

I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket but don’t register it until after a few rings. I pull it out and see it’s Michael. Knowing I wouldn’t have time to get outside to a quieter atmosphere, I pick it up anyway.

“Michael!” I laugh, excited to hear from him.

It’s no use. I can’t hear him at all. Two men finally step in to break up the fight, pulling the women back away from each other. That doesn’t stop them from kicking their feet towards one another.

“Hang on, babe, I can’t hear you,” I shout as I pantomime to Jess that I’m stepping outside.

I push through the crowded bar and feel a smack on my ass. Stunned, I immediately turn, half hoping it’s someone I know, half hoping that if it isn’t, they’re at least small enough for me to beat up. Several men are looking at me, neither of them giving away who the assailant was.

“Fuck off, pricks,” I glare at them. They only smirk, calling my reaction ‘adorable.’

Disgusted, I push out of the bar into the cool night air. I shiver immediately realizing I left my jacket inside.

“Michael?” I bring my phone back up to my ear.

“Everything okay, Frankie?” God, it’s so good to hear his voice.

I smile ear to ear. “Yes! Fine. I’m at a bar with a friend and a fight broke out. I couldn’t hear you.”

“Were you yelling at someone?” His concern makes my heart swoon. I love the way his voice sounds right now.

I roll my eyes at what had happened. “Yeah, someone slapped me in the butt when I was walking out. Don’t worry about it, I took care of it.”

“Fucking pigs. I’m sorry, Frankie. Fuck.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Why is his anger exciting me so much?

“It’s fine. I’m so happy you called though. I’ve missed you. How’s work?” I step further away from the bar, finding a bench.

Michael sighs, frustrated. “It’s work. The director and I aren’t really seeing eye-to-eye so it’s a bit difficult right now. Plus, Rachel is sick with the flu which means several important scenes are being held off until she recovers. It’s taking much longer than expected and it’s stressful.”

“Shit. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I wish you could be here.”

I sit up straighter and smile. “Me, too.”

“I miss you.”

I sigh. It’s been “I miss yous” for three months. “I miss you too. Maybe I can fly out there sometime soon? I know you’re busy, but I’m sure I could find things to do when… when I’m not doing you,” I whisper the last part and laugh.

Michael’s voice deepens and he groans. “Mmm. I’d really love that, Bean. Even if it just meant lying next to you at night, hugging your body close to me.”

I feel my cheeks blushing. I decide to myself then and there that it’s happening. I will put in a request at work for time off and fly out to LA to surprise Michael. 

Michael is obviously tired, I can tell because he keeps yawning. We end our conversation and I join back up with Jess in the bar.

A week passes before my vacation time is approved. I had asked for “as soon as possible” and apparently “as soon as possible” was two weeks later. It gave me time to thoroughly plan my trip. I subtly asked Michael for details about his hotel, telling him I had once stayed in LA at a pretty decent hotel and wondered if it was the same. It was dumb but he didn’t see right through me. I got the name of the hotel, that’s all that matters.

The days passed slowly, but I kept myself busy between work and the gym, never giving myself a moment to wish the time would pass quicker. I saw Frank several times at the gym. The first few times were a little awkward but we eventually began to say hello and chat again. He apologized for asking me out which made me laugh. 

“How would you have known I was seeing someone? Really, Frank, it’s okay. No harm done at all.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve dated, so I’m rusty when it comes to the signs.”

I grab a towel to wipe the sweat off my brow.

“Did I give off a sign?”

He copies my actions, using a towel to wipe himself down. “First, I thought you were a lesbian,” he smiles.

“Oh my god, you are way rusty,” I throw my head back and laugh.

“And then I thought you were lonely.” He shrugs.

I turn to the weights, considering his words. He’s not wrong. But it still stings. I have been lonely. 

Finally my last day of work arrives. I head straight to O’Hare after work with only a carry-on in tow. I text Michael to call me later when he gets the chance, hoping I’ll be in LA by then. I try so hard to nap on the way there but my adrenaline is too high. I flip through magazines, doodle on cocktail napkins, and stare out the window.

I feel like the cab ride to the hotel takes even longer than the flight from Chicago to LA. The cabbie winks when I pay him thanking him for the longest cab ride ever, “You’re a tourist, dear, I thought I’d let you see the sights!”

Finally. I step into the hotel lobby and I’m not sure what I expected. It’s still early evening and Michael hasn’t called me yet. I’m certain he’s at the studio and I feel stupid for not thinking about where I’m going to stay until he’s back. I try the concierge anyway.

“Hi, I’m looking for Michael Fassbender’s room, please.” I keep a straight face. I’m not a crazed fan, I promise. I swear I know him. Please believe me.

“Uh, well, uh,” the young man behind the desk scratches his head. “I don’t think I’m allowed to give out that information. I mean, I know I’m not. Sorry.”

I lean against the counter and narrow my eyes. I pull out a dollar bill and slap it on the counter in front of me. “How about now?”

He takes one look at the dollar. “Ma’am, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Come on. I’m his girlfriend and I’m here to surprise him. I swear!”

“No joke, but someone tried that same exact line last night.” He shrugs and takes my dollar.

“Hey! I’d like that back if you’re not going to help me.”

He rolls his eyes and hands it back.

“So rude,” I shake my head at him in disproval. “I’ll wait here then.” I raise my brows at him and walk back towards the couches in the lobby.

More waiting. And waiting. And waiting. 

I’m hungry but I can’t leave. I don’t want to miss Michael. I ask Mr. Dollar-Stealer where the nearest vending machine is but I’m still nervous about missing my opportunity to surprise my boyfriend. So I let my stomach growl and whine instead. I nap without meaning to, waking up to a streak a drool down my chin. I glance at Mr. Dollar-Stealer who shakes his head when I raise my brows in question. Still no Michael. I walk around the lobby, stretching my legs. I should have brought my laptop. The free wifi would have been a good way to kill time. 

I check the time on my phone and it’s nearing 11pm. I’d definitely be in bed by now if I were at home. What if he never shows up? What if he stays the night at the studio because he ends up staying so late? Do movie stars do that?

I’m starting to lose hope when in walks Michael, the sliding doors parting at his mere presence, or you know, how sliding glass doors tend to do. I sit straight up but he doesn’t see me, he’s glancing down at his phone. I sit completely still, waiting for him to look at me. I see him smile at his phone then hold it up to his ear. He walks right past me. In my peripheral, I see Mr. Dollar-Stealer smirk.

My phone rings and Michael stops in his tracks, hearing my ring-tone. I stand and hold out my arms in the ta-dah pose. When he turns and sees me, his eyes widen, as does his smile.

“Bean! What??” He closes the distance between us, pulling me in for a kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe him in deeply. The familiar scratch of his stubble on my chin makes me smile mid-kiss.

When we break away, I look over to Mr. Dollar-Stealer and smirk. “Thank you so much for all your help, sir.”

“You’re so very welcome. If there’s anything else you two will be needing, please just call! I’m here all night.” His fake politeness makes me cringe.

Michael takes my hand in his and I roll my carry-on beside me as we head to the elevator.

Michael can’t stop smiling and neither can I. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” We stand and wait for the doors to open and just stare at each other, smiling. My cheeks are actually starting to hurt.

The elevator dings and the doors open. Michael takes my carry-on out of my hands and lets me enter first. The second the doors shut, his smile turns more sinister. We collide and I’m forced back against the wall. I wrap my hands around his back but Michael takes them and pulls them up above my head. He pins me with his hips and devours my mouth, hungrily. My knees buckle as his mouth travels across my jaw and down my neck. He nips me below my ear and I moan, struggling against his hands on my wrists.

“Naughty girl, not warning me you were coming,” he growls lowly in my ear.

Eyes closed, savoring the feelings rampaging around inside of me, I smile. “Are you going to punish me, Mr. Fassbender?”

“You wish,” he chuckles, darkly, nipping my earlobe. 

I turn my face towards his and our lips connect. His grip loosens and I bring my hands to his face, cupping his jaw, keeping his mouth on my own.

“Pardon the interruption,” a voice bursts into the elevator.

Michael keeps his eyes on me, smirking. “Yes?”

“This is security. Is everything alright? You’ve hit the emergency stop which set off an alarm here.” I glance up and see the black glass orb which must be a camera. I giggle and blush, biting my lip as I bury my face into Michael’s chest.

“Oh, have I? My mistake. Sorry about that.”

“Mmmhmm. Sure. If you could go ahead and hit the number for your floor, we’ll get you moving again, sir.”

Michael nods and pushes off of me, hitting the number seven on the button panel.

“Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful evening.” The voice disappears but I still feel eyes on us.

Michael and I stand side to side holding hands the rest of the way up.

Once we’re in his room, I find myself being tossed back onto the bed before the lights are even turned on. I can’t see much of anything in the dark, but I feel Michael’s hands at my belt, unbuckling it, then yanking my jeans down. I help him by lifting my butt up. His mouth finds mine and I roam my hands across his back, finding it bare. Even his pants are off. God, he’s quick. 

“I didn’t realize I missed you this much, Frankie,” he tells me. 

Thank god it’s dark because I make a face. I’m sure that sounded nicer in his head, at least I hope so.

“It feels so good to have you in my arms again.”

That’s better. Much better. I push him off of me and straddle him. I pull my shirt off and unclasp my bra, tossing it across the room. By now, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness and I can see him before me. I cross my arms across his chest and lean down, peppering his face with kisses.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, realizing his hands have stilled on my hips.

I see him stifle a yawn and smile. “Everything is perfect, Bean.”

My eyes narrow. I’m not quite sure I believe him. Where’d his burst of passion go? I jab a finger against his chest.

“Do you need a nap? Are you cranky?” I snicker as I sit back up, intentionally grinding against his erection.

He groans, his hands gripping my hips tightly now. “No,” he pants. “Definitely not cranky. Just exhausted.”

“Wow, really… Too exhausted for sex?” I slow down my grind, torturing him.

“Don’t tease me, gorgeous girl. Get on.” He slips his fingers into my panties, pulling them aside. He brushes my sex which makes me gasp.

Lining himself up with me, he teases me with his tip until he’s nicely coated with my arousal. I then easily slide down, holding my breath as he fills me.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. “Frankie…”

“Shh. You relax. Let me take care of you.” I grind with him inside me. His fingers slip away from my panties and he massages my breasts. I appreciate the effort, but I take his hands and push them back above his head. “Relax. I mean it.” I kiss him hard before sitting back up.

I plant my palms against his hard chest for leverage and begin to move up and down. Michael’s eyes close and his lips part, air hissing through his teeth. Watching him enjoy everything I do to him turns me on even more. 

“I’ve missed you, Michael. Everything about you. I’ve especially missed having you between my thighs. God, have you gotten bigger??”

Michael chuckles, lifting his chin up and grinning that smile I love so much. I reach out and caress his lips with my thumb. He grabs my hand, kissing my fingers before wrapping an arm behind my waist and switching places. I cry out, surprised. He breaks away and pulls my undies off before climbing back over me. He nudges my jaw with his nose, kissing his way across as he slowly pumps in and out of me. 

I run my fingers through his hair before cupping the back of his neck, bringing his lips to my own. Our tongues caress, happily reunited. I wrap my legs around his narrow waist, keeping him right where he is. The slapping of his body against mine fills the air along with our panting. 

“Let’s slow it down a little,” I murmur with closed eyes and a smile.

“I can’t, even if I wanted to. I need you.”

I snicker and open my eyes, finding his heavily lidded. “Maybe tomorrow then,” I suggest. 

“Tomorrow. Right now, I need you to make all those little noises I’ve missed so much.” He grunts into me before kissing me again.

I return the kiss, moaning into his mouth before turning my face away. A slight whimper slips out between my lips and Michael growls in reply, burying his face into my neck, roughly kissing my skin. His teeth rake against me before he sits up, lifting my legs higher, tossing them over his shoulders. He kisses my calf before fucking me harder than he ever has before. He wraps his large hands around my thighs, holding me in place. 

A long string of curse words manage to leave my mouth as I grab my hair at the scalp, overwhelmed by the sudden, instantaneous climb of my orgasm. My back arches, deepening each thrust further. Michael takes advantage of the new position by grasping onto my ass, keeping me in place. 

“Touch yourself,” he groans, close to his release.

I immediately obey and drop my fingers to my clit. Watching my movements, Michael’s face contorts and he groans deeply just as I feel myself begin to constrict, my own orgasm milking him.

He pounds against me a few more times, riding it out until I stop shaking. We don’t speak. He pulls away and departs to the bathroom. The light to the bathroom is flicked on, flooding out into the bedroom. He closes the door to a crack and I hear him washing up.

I feel like I can’t move. Not just yet. I want to stay in this euphoric bliss a bit longer. I wish he hadn’t rushed off like that. I turn to my side and bring my knees up, propping myself up on my elbow. With the crack of light escaping the bathroom, I see our clothes strewn across the floor. I consider picking them up but before I move, Michael comes out, turning the light to the bathroom off. He slowly saunters to the bed, still naked, thank goodness. He walks around the bed and climbs in behind me, spooning me. His chin grazes the back of my neck and I feel goose bumps rise along my arms and legs. Michael rubs his hands over my bare arms before climbing back out of bed and pulling the bedsheets down. I lift myself up to help him and he gets back in, covering the both of us.

“Goodnight, baby,” he mutters as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in closer. I shift until we’re both comfortable.

That’s it?

“Night…” I frown, a bit surprised by the sudden wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am attitude. 

I watch the clock for nearly forty minutes until my eyes finally begin to get heavy with sleep and drift off with him.

In the morning, I find the comforter tucked in around me, but no Michael. I run my hand over his spot, but it’s not even warm. He’d been gone a while. I sit up and thankfully find a note on the nightstand.

**_Frankie,  
Sorry, I had to be at the studio early and didn’t want to wake you. Text me when you wake up and maybe I can get you to meet me on the set later._ **

**_XX M_ **

I climb out of bed to find my phone and shoot him a quick text. When he doesn’t respond after five minutes, I snuggle back up in bed and nap a bit longer, a content smile across my face.


	17. Bitter Beans

Getting to the studio was an event. Michael had apparently forgotten to add me to the list of names allowed on set. After about forty minutes of waiting by the entrance to the lot, I thought about just leaving and going back to the hotel. It was embarrassing, watching people pass by showing their passes with no problems whatsoever. It got awkward. The security guard, George, was a sweetheart though. He was old enough to be my father, had an impressive protruding beer-belly, and was balding on top, the spot like a sandpit surrounded by white hair. He seemed to believe me, that I’d been invited by Michael Fassbender. Now if Michael would just fricking call him and let him know…

Finally, the phone rang and George picked it up. “Ah, yes. Okay, great. Yes, she’s still here. I’ll issue her the temp pass for now. You’re welcome sir. You, too.”

I held my breath, waiting for him to hang up.

“Alrighty, sweetheart,” he looks at me after placing the phone back in the cradle. Handing me a pass on a lanyard, he explains he needs it back before I leave the lot. “Enjoy your visit! I’m sorry it took so long. It must be a busy day for them on the set.”

I thanked him and promised to return the pass. He gave me a piece of paper containing a map of the different sets. The studio was one gigantic lot with multiple buildings and sets. With a pen, he marked a path for me to follow to the correct set. 

“I’d offer to drive you back there, but Tim is on his lunch break right now. Sorry, sweetheart. Will you be okay?”

“Of course. Thank you, George. I appreciate it.” Taking my map, I left the security office with determination, memorizing the route. 

I had to back track, passing the same western scene a few times until I found the right direction. I was already annoyed having to wait for permission, and now I kept getting lost. Today wasn’t going so well.

Eventually, I found the correct building that George had circled for me. I wasn’t sure which door to enter. None of them were marked with anything other than the number 32. I went ahead and cracked open the door nearest me, peeking in before opening it further. Again there was nothing to confirm I was in the correct location. Nothing but a long and dark hall, lined with red rope lights near the floor. Being sure not to slam the door behind me, I let it close softly with a gentle click before heading down the hall.

Walking into the main area, I passed several other people who gave me strange looks, reminding me I didn’t belong here. I just smiled and acted like I knew where I was going. I honestly had no idea. 

I could hear someone with a very bossy tone talking to someone else. As I neared, I saw Michael. His arms were crossed over his chest and his chin was raised, listening to whoever this bossy guy is. Remembering the stories Michael told me about clashing with the director, I figured this must be him. He sounded almost like he was scolding Michael. I stayed back, not wanting to interfere. 

Standing behind a row of directors chairs with a small group of people wearing badges and headsets, I gave Michael a little wave when I saw his eyes wander my direction. He looked away and I wasn’t sure if he even saw me. My heart sunk, hurt. It was dark, though. I pushed the feeling away.

“We’re never going to finish this damn scene,” I heard a lady next to me utter.

“What’s going on?” I bravely asked.

The small group looked at me with surprise, then each of them covered their mouths with a finger, signaling me to keep quiet.

The woman closest to me leaned in. Covering the microphone of her head set, she whispered to me, “Michael is doing exactly what Kevin wants, but for some reason, it isn’t good enough. It’s been like this for weeks and it’s getting old.”

“Ah.” Poor Michael. No wonder he’s so stressed.

“Not to be rude, but, could I check your pass?” The woman reached a palm out and I slipped my lanyard off and handed it to her. She turned away from me, talking into the microphone before returning it. “Sorry about that. Can’t be too safe these days.”

“No problem. I understand.” I slipped the lanyard back over my neck and returned my attention to Michael and the director.

“You’re out of here! Now!” The director shouted.

Without another word, Michael stormed off the set, nearly passing by without noticing me. We locked eyes quickly and he grabbed me by the elbow, taking me with him.

“Fucking cocksucker,” he snarled under his breath. I barely heard him. I tried hard not to smile in amusement.

Throwing the door to the studio wide open, we both stepped out into the fresh air. “Seems I’ve arrived at a bad time,” I noted. Michael’s chest rose and fell heavily.

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” he needlessly apologized, shaking his head in shame. “Let’s go get some coffee or something. I need a break.”

Michael drove his rental to a nearby cafe and we rode in complete silence. I could tell he had a lot on his mind. I imagined he had a million words better left unsaid for Kevin. I gently placed a hand on the nape of his neck and played with his hair, feeling the tension radiating off of him.

We sat across from each other at a booth, silently sipping black coffee. I was beginning to get nervous. Michael looked everywhere but my eyes. He clasped his free hand over mine on the table and caressed my knuckles. 

“I shouldn’t have come,” I breathed. My heart sank, admitting the words. 

Michael finally met my eyes and let out a long sigh. He swallowed hard and released my hand. “It’s not easy right now, but I’m happy you came. We need to talk, though.”

I sat up straight and cupped my coffee mug.

He’s gonna send me back home sooner than expected. That’s okay. He’s a busy guy. Understandable.

“I think it’d be best if you head back to Chicago.”

Just as I expected. I let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank god. I thought you were breaking up with me,” I chuckled.

Michael looked down at his own mug.

“Oh…” I felt my heart crack a little. Okay, a lot.

“It’s bad timing, Frankie. I can’t concentrate. I need to focus and I’m constantly worried about you. It’s why I’ve always stayed single. It’s just better that way for me. For my career, I mean.”

I bit my lower lip to keep from crying. My knuckles turned white from squeezing the mug a bit too hard. “Wow.”

“I hate this, believe me.” He brought a hand to mine but I snatched them back and cleared my throat.

“No, I get it. Bad timing. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though.”

Michael rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "I never wanted to hurt you."

I shrugged and smiled, fighting back tears. "There was only one of two ways we could have ended. Young and heartbroken or old and gray. Guess it's the former. Part of me always knew this was coming." I swallowed hard. My throat felt like it was closing up. "Is this really it? Already?"

Michael didn't move. I don't know what he expected from me. Being in public, there was no way I'd make a scene. Of course I wanted to scream at him. How dare he make me fall in love with him! How dare he groom my heart for love eternal and then stomp on it!

I just sat there for a minute, unable to form the right words to end this on a delicate note, without any further embarrassment. I simply stood and raised a hand when Michael started to rise. 

“I’ll make this easy for you,” my voice cracked the harder I fought back my anger. “I’m just going to walk out of here and go back to the hotel and pack and be on my way. I’m sorry to have been such a distraction.” I began to walk away. 

I was so mad. Mostly at myself. I fell head over heels for someone who would never commit. His job was just too important to him. And I understood that. I would never ask him to choose me instead. But there was always that little smidgen of hope in the back of my mind, that somehow, amongst all the lonely nights and the months without seeing each other or touching each other, that our love would still stand, stronger than ever. That somehow, lonely would simply just mean alone. But that wasn't the case. I did love him. And I'm sure he loved me. But the loneliness killed me. I can't wait around forever.

“Frankie, wait,” he called after me. Once I reached the door, I turned around ready to accept his apology and take him back. What a stupid thing he did, he’d say. “You forgot your jacket.” 

He held out my jacket and I snatched it from his hand, shrugged into it, keeping my eyes on the ground, and walked out of the cafe wondering why I ever thought I could possibly be in the same league as someone like Michael Fassbender.


	18. The Call

I grimaced as Frank pumped butter vigorously over our large popcorn. And no, that's not an euphemism.

"How's that?" He asked, a proud grin stretching over his face.

"Perfect," I lied. I internally gagged imaging the urine colored syrup coating my throat if I dared to try the popcorn. 

Our fifth date, and Frank has never once asked if I even like fake butter on my popcorn. You'd think a gym rat would skip it completely.

Double checking our tickets, Frank leads me to the theater and we find two open spots near the center. 

The lights dim and the trailers begin. I think movie trailers are my favorite part of the whole moving-going experience. And honestly, I don't think I can explain why exactly. 

Frank edges the popcorn bucket closer to me but I pat my stomach and tell him I'm still full from lunch. I open my bottled water and take a generous swig as the voice-over introduces an action film. 

"In a world where humans drop lower on the food chain, only one man holds the key to survival. Michael Fassbender is... Solomon Reeds."

I spit my water onto the poor lady in front of me and begin to choke. Seeing Michael's face on the big screen hit me hard like a brick.

I did my best to wipe down my splash back victim, apologizing profusely. Not having enough napkins, I began to use the sleeve of my sweater. "I'm so, SO, sorry..." I uttered between coughs.

Frank pat my back hard, his eyes wide with confusion. "Wrong pipe?" He asked.

"Yes," I cleared my throat and stood. "I'll be right back." I gestured to the exit. "Potty."

Poor Frank. I about gave him a heart attack. I rush to the nearest restroom in order to calm myself down.

It's been three months since I've seen Michael. We haven't even spoken. And why should we? As they say, you can't start a new chapter if you keep re-reading the past ones. I deserved a clean break, and that's what I've done.

But I didn't expect it to hurt so damn bad, seeing him larger than life.

***

I stirred the sauce and strained the pasta, keeping an eye on the time. Frank would be here any minute. This is the first time he's coming over as well as the first time I'm cooking for him. Thankfully Alfredo pasta is a safe dish so there's no way I could screw this up. 

Frank arrived with a bottle of wine. He gingerly placed a kiss upon my forehead and I blushed. He's a sweet guy but I'm hoping he's a little more not-so-sweet in the sack. 

I don't love Frank. And I don't think he loves me. But I have needs. I trust him and I'm horny. Tonight better end with him in my bed. Consensually, of course.

I barely touched my food, which is unlike me lately. I've gained a little weight, eating my feelings. I blame Michael completely. Oreos don't mend a broken heart, but it doesn't hurt to try.

"So," Frank smiled after wiping his lips with a napkin. Here we go.

"So," I countered, doing my best to smile sexily. I carefully took a sip of my wine, needing a little liquid courage.

"Forgive me for... heh, for being frank, but I'm thinking we should have sex." Frank's voice rose higher with each word and he cleared his throat.

Bingo.

I stood and grabbed his hand, pulling him from the table. He crashed his mouth against mine, our teeth hitting each other. We both groaned in pain but tried our best to ignore it. Walking backwards, leading Frank to my bedroom, we kissed hard as if our lives depended on it. It was obvious we were both nervous and just a bit out of practice. 

I grabbed him by the lapel and spun him around, pushing him back onto the bed. He let out a tiny yelp and bounced in place. I kicked off my shoes and climbed in next to him, bringing my mouth to his again. Our hands were all over, touching every inch we could. 

Our clothes could not come off fast enough. Once we were both finally naked, I wasn't quite sure what to do next. I waited for Frank to take the lead and continued to kiss him, draping a leg over his thigh. He cupped my ass and brought me hard against him. I moaned and smiled, pleased with our progress. 

"Your phone?" Frank asked.

"Huh?" Pulled out of the hazy horniness, I was very confused. 

"It won't stop ringing..."

"Oh," I laughed, "I didn't even notice. Don't worry about it, they can leave a message." I continued to kiss him, gently raking my fingernails down his chest, delighted with his shudders of pleasure.

The ringing stopped and I sighed. No more interruptions. I pressed Frank down into the mattress and clambered on top of him, feeling extremely powerful in my sexuality. Where this internal strength came from, I've no idea, but I rolled with it. I growled in frustration once my phone began to ring again.

"That's the third time. It's probably important, Frankie."

I dropped my head onto his chest and felt him kiss my hair. Smiling, embarrassed about my annoying phone, I climbed down off of him and dug through the pile of clothes on the floor for my phone.

"No..." I hissed. I had deleted Michael from my contacts, but I recognized his number flashing on the screen. 

I struggled with my options. Ignore him and hop back into bed with Frank, or answer it and possibly end the night in tears. But why wouldn't he just leave a damn voicemail? Using my sex goddess state of mind, I decided to answer it. Maybe I could shut him down and continue on with my evening.

"Hello?" I answered as if I had no idea who was calling. I gestured to Frank that I was going to take the call in another room. "I'll be quick, I'm so sorry," I whispered to him.

I stepped into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. 

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really not coming?" Michael almost sounded angry.

My heart was pounding so hard, it sounded like it was in my head. I could barely hear, let alone think clearly. Did he seriously call me to ask if I was coming or not?! The gall!

"Rae said she spoke to you," he continued.

"What the hell are you talking about, Michael?"

"I'm back home, Frankie, with your family. I figured you of all people would be here. You're not missing your grandmother's funeral simply because of me, are you?"

I think I stopped breathing. There was no warning for what I felt next, no way to prepare for the stab of a million knives through my chest. I felt the color drain from my face and I silently prayed this was a morbid joke.

"Not funny, Michael..."

Michael was silent for a bit. "Bean, has no one told you? She passed away three days ago."

"Stop it." I choked on my words, anger coursing through my veins.

"Fuck. I'm so sorry... I can't fucking believe this. Frankie, get on a plane. I'll pay for it. The visitation is tonight and the funeral is tomorrow. Write down my card information and I'll cover every-"

I let out a sob, drowning out his voice. I shook with anger, hating my family more than ever. My own fucking mother. And especially my cousin, who for no reason has hated me from day one. I wanted to scream but I couldn't even catch my breath long enough to make any noise. 

"Frankie, sweetheart," I heard Michael doing his best to calm me. "Breathe, it's okay."

"H-how? How did, how did she go?"

"In her sleep. Peacefully."

Thank god. 

"Bean, I'm so sorry no one told you. I'll take care of that. Do you have a pen? Write this down." He waited for my reply.

"No. I'll get there but I will pay for myself." I swallowed hard and brushed my tears away as best as I could. "Thank you for calling."

"Frankie..."

"Goodbye."

I violently thumbed "end call" wishing it made as much of an impact as slamming a phone into its cradle did.

A gentle tapping on the bathroom door reminded me that I wasn't alone.

"Frankie?" The door cracked open and Frank peered in. I pulled a towel down off the towel bar and quickly covered myself. "Everything okay?"

"No, not really. I just learned about a death in the family."

"Oh, shit," he pushed the door open further.

I told him about my grandmother, but I left out the fact that no one had bothered to tell me. I didn't see us lasting, so why drag him into the family drama?

***

Jess pulled my carry-on out of the trunk and slammed it closed. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with? I could give your family a piece of my mind!"

Bless Jess. There was no way I could suddenly afford a ticket to Ireland with my income. I sent Frank home and called her immediately. I felt bad kicking Frank out, but he promised he understood. 

Jess immediately offered to help me get to the funeral. That wasn't my intention when I called her, but I was grateful. She put it all on her husband's card and I promised to pay her back. The next day, before the sun rose, she picked me up outside my apartment and drove me to O'Hare.

"I'm sure. I need to face them alone."

Jess wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight. "What about Michael?"

I shrugged. "I couldn't possibly be more heartbroken right now. It's not like seeing him in person will add to it."

Shaking her head, Jess brushed my hair away from my face and booped my nose, making me laugh. "If you can make it through this, you can survive anything. Call me when you get back and we'll go get wasted."

"Is that a promise?" I grinned.

"You betcha." She pat me on my butt and giggled.

I turned and headed into the airport, waving goodbye to Jess. The eight hour flight was going to be dreadful. I packed a book even though I knew I'd probably leave it in my bag the entire time. I had way too much on my mind and plenty of time to prepare a speech for my mother and Rae.


	19. Socked

It was raining in Killarney which wasn't surprising. I was thankful to have Michael on my side. Without him, I wouldn't have known when and where Grandmother's funeral would be held. 

Anxiety, anger, hurt, and about a million other emotions surged through my veins the closer the taxi got to Saint Peter's. I wrung my hands together, afraid as hell of becoming a blubbery mess. 

On the plane, I was so amped up and prepared a very long and hurtful rant aimed at my mother, if you can call her that, and Rae. I barely slept. I know I should have because jet lag always hits me hard. But every time I tried to close my eyes all I could see was red. Just the color red.

The taxi pulled into the lot of the church and though I looked a right mess after spending eight hours mingling with a bunch of sweaty people, there wasn't much I could do about it. I pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail and lugged my carry-on behind me. 

I opened the heavy wrought iron doors and stepped in, my heart feeling heavier than ever being inches closer to seeing my grandmother. There was no one around in the grand foyer, so I quietly walked down the front hallway until I heard someone praying loudly. Outside the entrance of the sanctuary sat a table covered with programs for the funeral. My grandmother's beautiful smile graced the front page. I picked one up and held it close to my heart.

Entering the large room stuffed with pews, I sat in the back, alone. No one noticed and that was fine with me. I could see the casket up front was opened but I couldn't see inside from where I sat. Part of me was still in denial. My grandmother, though as old as she was, was supposed to outlive us all. 

The entire sanctuary smelled of roses and carnations. It was overpowering but the sight was beautiful. Baskets of flowers and plants filled the front of the room from family and friends from around the world.

I glanced around and found Rae, Carl, my mother, and my poor grandfather sitting together up front with the rest of the family. Carl had his arm around Rae and I could hear her sniffling. And in that very moment, I didn't hate her. As much as I wanted to yell at her and curse her out, she was suffering the same loss I was feeling. Maybe even more so. And as for my mother, this was her own mother here. She certainly was closer to her mother than I was with my own. 

I had every right to be pissed at them for keeping this news from me. They had no right to leave me out of this. But they are hurting too. All the words of anger I had written down and poured over on the way here simply vanished from my thoughts. I wasn't here to scream at my family. I was here to grieve a woman who loved each and every one of us. The one woman who brought us all together every holiday season as best as she could. Family meant everything to her.

Tears began to cloud my view and I blinked and wiped them away. Several feet away from my family sat Michael with his parents. He had his arm around his mother, Adele, holding her close. My heart sank seeing him being so tender. I wanted to hate him for dumping me but I knew I never would. He always has and always will mean too much to me.

Michael's eyes wandered and locked with mine. I quickly looked away but I could feel his stare. 

The priest praying said his amens and blessed the congregation. The back of the program told where she would be buried and it asked that only family members join in lowering her casket into the ground. 

I had missed a majority of the service, it seemed. The organ sounded and the first row rose to their feet to leave. I clutched the program tightly as I watched my mother and my grandfather arm-in-arm descend down the center aisle. Grandfather didn't notice me, dabbing his eyes delicately with a tissue, but Mother looked right at me. If she was shocked to see me, she didn't show it. She ushered my grandfather out of the sanctuary without a word.

Raegan, however, following close behind, let her jaw drop as she passed me. She quickly glanced away, burying herself into Carl's comforting embrace. Carl gave me a sad smile.

I sighed heavily and kept my head down as the rest of the congregation left. From my peripheral, I noticed Michael and his family leave. I felt Michael's eyes on me and I could tell he wanted me to glance up at him, but I couldn't. I wasn't ready to face him yet.

Finally, I was alone. The priest had followed everyone out. I knew I only had a few minutes alone with my grandmother before the pallbearers came to carry her out to the hearse. 

I placed the program on the seat next to me and carefully stood, making my way to the chancel where the casket sat. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until I saw her face. She looked unreal. Her make up was overdone and her usual playful smile wasn't there. Her hands rested just below her chest, a handkerchief with my grandfather's initials tucked in between them.

Gingerly, I reached out and placed a hand on hers. I didn't fight the tears anymore. 

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here," I said quietly, watching her face for any signs of life. "I love you so much. I hope you knew that. You were one of the best parts of my life. I can't believe you're really gone."

I didn't hear the men walking up behind me. Michael placed a gentle hand on my shoulder so I wouldn't be startled. 

"It's time," he said softly. I backed out of their way slowly, careful not to trip over my own feet.

Uncle Geoff, Michael, and several other men who had loved my grandmother as their own, carefully sealed up the casket and lifted it off the floor to carry to the hearse. My sob got caught in my throat as I watched the lid close. 

I let them pass me and exit the sanctuary. The hearse would take my grandmother to the cemetery where she and my grandfather had plots. I wasn't sure if I should join my family or hang back. No matter how badly I wanted to be there, I couldn't help but feel like an outsider; an intruder.

Picking up my bag, I left the sanctuary and trudged out into the rain. It was merely sprinkling, thankfully. I was in such a hurry to get here that I didn't even think of what I'd be doing afterwards. 

The men closed up the hearse and got in their cars to follow behind to the cemetery. Michael had a rental and without a word, he walked up to me and grabbed my hand, leading me to the passenger side.

We quietly rode down the bumpy gravel road towards the cemetery. I kept my eyes out the window, watching the rain drops dance against the glass.

At the site, Michael helped the other pallbearers with the casket and then turned to me. I stood back from the rest of the family. "I'll wait in the car for you."

"I don't need your help." I crossed my arms, shivering slightly.

Michael looked hurt. "I know." He left me alone and I watched him all the way back to his car. He looked back once he reached it and got in, waiting for me, just as he had said. 

The priest said another prayer for my grandmother and everyone tossed a rose over the casket before it was lowered. It felt so strange, like knowing you're in a dream and you're just waiting for your alarm to wake you any minute now.

Everyone was holding someone or being held and there I was, my arms around myself. I never felt more alone, surrounded by my own family.

Once we were finished, my mother immediately turned around and embraced Rae. I bit my tongue. It fucking hurts when it's obvious your own mother loves your cousin more than she loves you. I am her daughter! I should be the one consoling her! Then, I remembered, she didn't even tell me about my grandmother's passing. So screw her. And screw Rae. They deserve each other.

I shook my head in disbelief and turned away from the scene. I was done with them. I started for Michael's rental when I heard my mother's voice call after me.

Stopping in my tracks, I faced her.

"Francis... I'm surprised to see you here."

"Why wouldn't I be? I loved her just as much as you."

Rae interjected. "Not now, Frankie. Can't you see we are grieving? Let's not make this about you today."

I didn't come here to yell at my family. I came to say goodbye to my grandmother. But if this bitch wants to start something, then by the hammer of Thor, I was going to end it.

"Oh, I'm grieving too, believe me. If I wanted to make it about me, I would have gave you an earful at the church for not even telling me that my own grandmother had passed away! Why the hell didn't you?! Any of you?!"

My mother frowned and Carl, along with everyone else, just looked confused. 

"Reagan? You did tell her, didn't you?" Carl asked.

"Of course I did! She didn't want to come, so, whatever."

My eyes went wild and I laughed with disgust. "You LIAR! You didn't tell me!" I turned to my mother. "Why on earth didn't _you_ tell me?? You left it up to Rae?" 

Great, here come more tears.

"I-I... I'm sorry, Francis..." My mother covered her mouth, unsure of what to say, only now realizing just how much Rae actually hates me.

"So yeah, I'm grieving too. But I'm not just grieving the death of my grandmother, I'm grieving the death of my entire family.  I'm finished."

There. Done. I spun back around and began to walk away. That is until Rae uttered, "Drama queen."

I turned and marched right up to her and socked her in the face as hard as I could.

Rae fell back on her ass and everyone gasped, myself included. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I regained composure quickly, letting the anger flow through me. Darth Vader would be proud.

"Francis!" My mother shouted, scrambling to help Rae up. Carl stepped between the two of us.

"I'm done with this family!" I screamed in a tearful rage. 

Storming off towards Michael's car, I held my closed fist to my chest, the knuckles throbbing in pain. I'd never punched anyone before in my life. It felt exhilarating, but it also fucking hurt.

Michael had stepped out of his car when he saw Rae go down. He had the biggest grin on his face as I neared him.

"Did you just..." He chuckled, coming around to my side to open my door for me.

"Yes and I don't want to talk to you."

Michael closed the door behind me, made his way back around, and quickly got in the drivers seat.

"Frankie-"

"Just drive!"

We drove for ten minutes in complete silence, save for the continuous sniffles coming from me. 

Guilt began to creep into my conscience. I should not have punched my cousin. No matter how badly she deserved to be taken down a notch or two. Or three.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

"You okay?" Michael glanced at me, concern and amusement written all over his perfect face.

"I'm a mess. Fuck. I didn't think this through at all. I don't even have a place to stay."

"Yes you do. You can stay at my folks house." He turned on the radio and blasted it before I could object. I reached over to turn it off and he playfully smacked my hand away.

I was angry, but I couldn't help but laugh. "Stop it," I sneered, a small laugh escaping. I shut the radio off. "I can't. Just take me to the cheapest inn."

"Bean," Michael shook his head and turned into the parking lot of an old run down abandoned restaurant. He put the car in park and turned to face me. "You're not staying in some shit inn. You have family here."

"No, I don't. I just disowned them, basically. There's no way I could-"

"Not them. Me. My parents. You'll stay with us."

I stuttered over my words, struggling for an excuse, any reason to find an inn instead. But then he slowly smiled and I felt my heart beat once again with life. 

"I've already told Adele you'll be staying with us. So it's already done. No sense in arguing. You know I always get my way." He raised a brow, teasing.

"Separate rooms, of course," I said, crossing my arms.

"Obviously. No hanky panky." He turned back to the wheel and we drove out of the lot, heading to his childhood home.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me trying to touch you," I muttered under my breath as I turned to watch the scenery out the window. 

I didn't think he heard me, but then he replied, "It's not you I'm worried about."

I looked at him but he stared straight ahead. 

"Don't," I warned him.

I was in no mood to deal with the hurt he had caused me. I wasn't sure I'd ever be. But if I was going to be sleeping across the hall from him for the next few days until my flight back to Chicago, we were going to be merely acquaintances and nothing more. I could only deal with one confrontation at a time.


	20. Rascally Rabbit

I brushed my teeth and wiped my mouth on the hand towel hanging above the sink. I noticed the guest room didn't have a lock, so I quickly changed into a baggy tee and frilly boxer shorts to sleep in. Someone rapped on the bathroom door so I quickly gathered my belongings and shoved them into my toiletry bag. I unlocked the door and opened it to find Michael waiting in the hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

What the fresh hell.

My breath got caught in my throat and I coughed.

"All yours," I said as I began to pass him.

"Going to bed?" He watched me as I passed him, his eyes on my exposed shoulder as my shirt slipped down.

I nodded. "Jet lag. You know how it is. Enjoy your shower."

I quickly entered the guest bedroom before he could say another word. I didn't want to be in the same house as him. Not right now. And certainly not when he's fucking half naked.

I threw myself on the bed, face first, bouncing once. I had lied to him. There was no jet lag. Not yet anyway. I was burning through every emotion in existence. And yes, seeing him with a towel hanging on his hips had ensured I was horny as well. 

He didn't fight fair. HE dumped ME. If anything, I should be the tease here.

I grumbled and curled into a ball. I should sleep. 

The next morning, Adele and Josef were already gone, buying fresh food from the local markets for the week. I pressed my ear to Michael's door and I heard him snoozing. I needed to clear my head, so I got dressed and double bra'd myself since I left my sports bras at home. I hadn't planned on needing one.

I am not a runner. I'll be clear about that. I'll only run if I'm being chased. No, even then, I'm not a runner. But I couldn't think of any better way to just push everything else aside and think of absolutely nothing but what's in front of me.

I laced up my red Converses, hoping they'd get the job done. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I started off slow, making my way down the long and winding gravel drive. 

I can do this. Left right left right. I wasn't a fan of cardio. Lifting was my thing. 

Out of nowhere, a rabbit darted in front of me, and in attempt to stop and keep run at the same time, my body hurled forward, crashing onto the ground. My hands scrapped against the gravel and I could feel the skin on my knee tearing.

"Fuck!!!" I couldn't hold it in. I pushed back onto my butt and examined my palms and my knee. So much for clearing my head. It stung like a bitch.

I swallowed back a sob that tried to escape and blinked away my tears. I took a few deep breaths and pushed myself up, carefully. 

Back inside the house, I tried my best to keep quiet. I didn't want to wake Michael. 

I had no idea where Adele kept the first aid kit. I checked under the kitchen sink, in the pantry, and the powder room before making my way upstairs, holding onto the banister for dear life.

I checked the hall closet and let out a pleasured moan finding the kit front and center at eye level. I snatched it and headed to the bathroom, on the brink of full on sobbing. Not only due to the pain, but everything having piled up at once. It was too much and I was beginning to crack. Damn that rascally rabbit.

I snickered, thinking of Elmer Fudd. "Wascally wabbit. It's wabbit season!" I grimaced as I nudged the faucet on, sticking my hands under the steady cold stream of water.

A single trail of blood trickled down my leg, soaking into my sock. I kicked my shoes off and I heard Michael's bedroom door open. Shit. Using my foot, I closed the bathroom door.

"Frankie? Are you crying?"

"No!" I lied.

Michael knocked.

"I'm fine. Please go away."

I didn't hear anything in return.

"Did you go away?" I asked.

"Nope, still here."

I opened the door a crack.

"Okay, I may need your help," I admitted.

Michael pushed the door open further, taking in the sorry scene before him.

I half sat on the sink trying to get water over my knee, my palms were still bleeding but not as bad. I had hair in my eyes and gravel dust on my ass.

Michael raised his brow. "What happened?" He brushed past me, not waiting for a reply, and turned on the faucet above the bathtub.

I explained the rabbit darting in front of me and he pat the side of the tub for me to sit. I hobbled over and sat. Michael peeled my socks off, then gently helped me to put both feet in the shallow water. He cupped the water with his hands and brought it to my skinned knee.

He grabbed a wash cloth from under the sink and gently brushed away all traces of dirt before drying the wounded area, applying antiseptic, and finally a bandage.

"Good as new. Now let's see about your poor hands."

I held them out and he place them in his lap. We both straddled the side of the tub and stared at each other. Lifting my palms, Michael gently blew across my scrapes. I couldn't bare to watch his face as he did so. I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Place bandages on the scrapes of my palms as well, he pat my good knee before rising. "Looks like you're going to make it."

I scoffed but smiled, slowly standing. "Thanks." My foot in the tub caught the side and I began to fall towards the sink. I caught myself, but Michael grabbed my elbow, steadying me.

He lifted me and sat me on the counter, stepping between my legs.

"This brings back memories," he whispered, his lips so close to mine.

My brain seemed to have short circuited. "Hmm?" All I could do was look at his mouth.

"Don't you remember Christmas at your grandmother's?"

"That feels like ages ago."

Michael nodded. "I was so excited to see you again." He leaned forward and his cheek grazed mine. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.

"You didn't even recognize me," I remembered.

"At first. Then you gave me those famous puppy eyes of yours."

I groaned in protest and playfully shoved him away. "Did not."

"Did so," he chuckled, not breaking away from me. "I had to patch you up then, too."

"You have a knack for it."

He pushed my hair away from my eyes and smiled softly. "What's on your agenda today, Frankie? Any chance I could spend some time with you?" He tilted my chin up and I met his eyes.

"Michael," I sighed. "You broke up with me."

"I'm an ass."

"It's true. But you had a good reason."

Our foreheads pressed and our breathing picked up. We knew what was coming next. There was no denying it, that we both wanted it, desperately.

"And what was my lame ass reason, Frankie?" He closed his eyes but mine stayed open.

"You need to concentrate. You're better when you're single."

His eyes opened and he cracked a smile. "I'm not so sure I really believe that."

God just kiss me already. I pressed my lips to his and just as quickly as it began, it ended. I gently pushed him away at arms length. "I can't." I hopped off the edge of the counter and left the bathroom.

And once again he didn't try to stop me. Only difference is, this time, I didn't want him to.

 

•••

 

I couldn't stay at Michael's any longer. He offered to drive me to an inn since he was headed out to help his parents at The West End House but I declined. It'd be better if we just cut all ties and stayed away from one another completely. I needed to be kind to myself. Being around him was torture.

"Frankie." He caught me just before I left. "Don't cut off every relationship in your life. Some people just have a very shitty way of loving others. And believe me, you're loved by a lot of shitty people. Present company included."

That afternoon after settling into my room, I considered Michael's advice. I thought about my grandmother and how disappointed she would have been if she'd witnessed my little temper tantrum at the cemetery. I'd like to think she'd be on my side but there's no way. I completely crossed a line. Not only by punching Rae, but disowning my family.

As much as I hated to admit I was wrong, I knew I needed to swallow my pride and ask for forgiveness. At least from my mother. Rae can rot for all I care.

 

•••

 

I sat at a lone table outside the restaurant, keeping an eye out for my mom. The weather was perfect with a gentle breeze keeping it cool. The clouds in the distance rolling in looked a bit dark so there was a good chance it would be raining soon. Per the norm.

Sipping my glass of water, I finally saw my mother bounding her way up the sidewalk to the restaurant. I was worried she wouldn't want to meet. She looked exhausted, even with the large sunglasses she wore to disguise her fatigue.

"Francis." She addressed me as she sat opposite of me. She removed her sunglasses and her eyes were red. "You're hurt?" She eyed the bandages across my palms.

"It's nothing. Thanks for meeting me here." I gave her a small smile.

She nodded curtly. "I was surprised to get a call from you. Figured you would have been on your way back to the states by now."

"Well, I wasn't sure what I'd be doing. I wanted to stay, for you."

"Why?"

"Because you just lost your mother. And you're MY mother. I dunno, I wanted to be here for you."

My mother sighed and tapped her beautifully manicured fingers on the table, adjusting the menu and silverware. She's a fidgeter when she's nervous.

"Sweetie, you've never been around before. Every time you would visit, you couldn't wait to get back to your dad."

"What! That is not true!"

We had to put our conversation on hold as the waiter took our order. I ordered a salad but Mom just asked for water. Which meant she wouldn't be staying. 

After a few moments of awkward silence, I spoke up again. "I loved being here. I mean, I love it. This is my home too."

Mom rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Francis. You hate it here. So finally I cut back on flying you out here. Then your grandmother started flying you out here."

I already knew that so it wasn't surprising. I just figured it was Mom not wanting to spend money on her only daughter.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I do love it here. But it's not easy being your daughter when you fawn over Rae so much."

"I don't know what you want from me, Frankie. You wouldn't let me be a mother to you, and now you're jealous that I give Rae attention?"

I wasn't even aware I'd been clenching my jaw every time she spoke. 

"Rae hates me. That's a well-known fact."

"She doesn't hate you, she's just Rae."

Good ol' back-stabbing, soul-crushing Rae. 

"Mom!" I shouted loud enough that neighboring diners glanced our way in surprise. At this point I didn't care if I made a scene. "She purposely didn't tell me about grandmother passing! She kept me in the dark!"

Mother shook her head in disbelief. "I know, I'm sorry, sweetie," she reached for my hand but I yanked it away.

"Stop defending her! She's a complete bitch! And she always has been. I thought it would pass as we grew older, like siblings who fight, I thought we'd get past it... Mature, you know? But nope. Rae will always be the absolute worst. And I will never forgive her for what she's done."

Mom's eyes teared up and she placed her sunglasses back on. "I thought you wanted to talk. I won't sit here and have you attacking me."

Before she could stand, I placed my hand gently over hers. "No, please don't. You're not responsible for Rae's actions. I apologize. But god, Mom, you've got to agree she's terrible to me. Please don't turn a blind eye and pretend everything is okay or always has been."

I sat there, internally begging my mother to admit it. With every passing second, my heart sank further and further into my stomach. Finally, she sighed.

"No, you're right. She's not the nicest to you. I never had a sister though, so wouldn't know how sisters behave toward one another."

"Ew, don't compare us as sisters. Being cousins with her is closer than I'd like to be related to her."

"Frankie, be mature. Please." 

My salad arrived but I pushed it back. I'd get it boxed up and take it back to the inn. I was too upset to eat.

"I am being mature." It took everything in me not to cross my arms and pout.

"Rae isn't, she's..." Mom nervously laughed. "I'm sorry Frankie, but Rae isn't your cousin."

"Well thank fuck. Was she adopted? Why are you telling me this now?"

"Sweetie, Rae is your sister."

I swear I stopped breathing. My mouth went completely dry. I cocked my head, unsure I heard her correctly.

"You're sisters, Frankie."

I regained the ability to speak. "How?"

"When your father and I were married, I had an affair. I became pregnant with another man's child. Your father, bless his heart, stayed with me but I wasn't ready for a child. And the memory of the affair was hard on both of us. Your uncle brought Rae here as his own. But your father still struggled with the affair. I had stopped seeing the other man, I swear I did. But it was so hard on him, Frankie, so hard. We went to counseling, we took cooking classes, ballroom dancing courses... We did what we could to keep our marriage going."

I couldn't look her in the eye any longer. I stared down at my plate as she continued.

"I became pregnant with you and your father was on cloud nine! Finally, I thought we'd be okay. But life really wore us down. By the time you were twelve, we just couldn't do it anymore. I loved you so much. So much, Frankie. But I had to leave."

I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I brushed them away and took a drink of my water, taking a few seconds to breathe.

"Is this a joke?"

My mother swallowed hard and shook her head. "No sweetie. Not a joke. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner."

All this time, all these years of Rae treating me the way she has, and she's my sister? I had a million questions running through my mind but I couldn't form the words. There was only one question I could get out of me. "Does Rae know?"

My mother gave me a sad smile. "No."


	21. Puddle of Tea

I returned back to my room, dumping my salad in the trash bin. What a bomb to drop on me. My vibrantly redheaded malicious cousin was in fact my sister. I had a hard time believing any of it. Especially that Rae was in the dark.

I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It would make sense if Rae knew. Of course she would hate me. I was the daughter my parents wanted. Rae was cast off to live with our uncle.

I felt sick because I felt sorry for Rae.

Turning to my side, I hugged myself. I really wanted Michael right now, spooning me from behind. He'd know exactly what to say. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and contemplated calling him before deciding against it.

No, this was a conversation best had face to face.

 

•••

 

I caught a taxi to The West End House just before the dinner rush. Using the selfie mode on my phone, I checked for Marilyn Manson eyes. My make up had been spared but I definitely looked like I'd been crying.

Nothing I could do about it now. 

The hostess up front asked me to wait while she got Michael. She gave me a funny look, unsure of what I could possibly want him for. 

"Frankie? Everything okay?" Michael returned with the hostess. She was still eyeing me, checking me out, sizing me up as she returned behind her podium.

"Can we talk?"

I followed him toward the back office and he held the door open for me like a gentleman. The second I passed him, he followed me in and locked the door behind us.

"I need to ask--" before I could finish speaking, Michael had me pinned to the wall.

Feverishly, he kissed me, holding my hands against the wall next to my head. Our fingers interlocked and I kissed him right back. I needed to blow off steam somehow, so why not?

My lips kissed his strong jaw and I nipped my way down his neck as he groaned into my ear. "All day, I imagined exactly this happening, and you showed up. And here we are. Tell me it's not fate."

I pushed him back and we crashed against the desk, stumbling to the ground. I straddled him and began to undo his belt before tackling his shirt. "Shut up, Michael."

He grinned so big, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Wow, Bean, do that again," he joked. "That was hot."

I reached the last button of his shirt and leaned forward until my lips were centimeters from his own. "I said 'shut up.'" I kissed him hard and he groaned.

I felt powerful being in control. I lifted the skirt of my dress and Michael tugged my panties to the side before slipping a finger in.

"Already good to go," he purred, nipping my chin. "Sit on me, now."

"Don't tell me what to do." I glared at him but obeyed anyway. 

Carefully, I slid down his cock and gasped as I stretched to accommodate his girth. I'll never get used to how he makes me feel. With him I felt incredibly sexy, almost slutty. No, definitely slutty. But like an appreciated slut. He'd never degrade me.

 

•••

 

With the door still locked, Michael and I stayed on the floor in each other's arms under the desk. I had my head on his chest and he played with my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I felt him kiss my hair and sigh.

"Did you know about Rae?" I asked quickly before changing my mind.

"Hmm? Rae?"

I sat up and placed my bra back around me. Michael sat up as well and helped me fasten it. He leaned against the desk and waited for me to explain.

"I had a chat with my mother this afternoon."

"About Rae?"

I nodded.

"And?"

"Let's not play games. Either you know or you don't."

Michael smirked. "You're so bossy today. I like it." I playfully smacked his arm, wanting him to get serious. "But I really don't know what you're talking about."

I felt the weight of a ton of bricks fall off my shoulders. "Thank god."

I stood up and pulled the straps of my dress back over my shoulders. Michael stood and pulled up his slacks, fastening his belt buckle. This was a serious conversation and you cannot have a serious conversation when you're naked with an extremely sexy man. It's impossible.

Michael grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his arms. "Gonna tell me what this is about?"

There was no reason not to tell him. He knew Rae pretty well. Better than I did. Maybe he'd have some advice.

"Well, as strange as it is, it turns out that Rae and I are... not cousins. We're sisters."

Michael blinked hard, as if he'd misheard. I frowned and pressed my head to his chest.

"Bean? I'm confused..."

"Just hold me, please."

"Shit, Bean. Wow. That certainly explains a lot."

I nodded and closed my eyes tightly. I didn't want to cry. I wouldn't cry. 

I thought for a moment about Rae. What must that do to a person? To feel somewhat unwanted. Of course my uncle and aunt loved her like their own. But her whole life was a lie. She was cast aside and then came along me, a planned child. It was no wonder she hated me as much as she did. I would hate me too. 

I opened my eyes and looked up at Michael. He kissed my forehead and a traitorous tear trailed down my cheek. I brushed it away as quickly as it appeared.

Breaking free of Michael's hold, I sat and slumped into the office chair and crossed my arms. "What do I do with this information? She's always going to hate me. Even if I talk to her. Isn't she?"

Michael shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Bean."

"I think I need to try."

 

•••

 

I left Michael to explain to his staff why it took us longer than half an hour to chat in the office with the door closed. I knew he could fend for himself, so off I went with a wave of my hand, giggling.

I didn't know what to do. It didn't feel right to shoot Rae a text and I knew she'd find it weird if I called her and asked to meet up. The weather was warming up and the clouds in the sky were fluffy and perfect like Toy Story clouds. 

My stomach growled. Sex on a completely empty stomach had left me famished. Maybe I should have stayed and let Michael feed me. Too late now. I stopped at the little café a few blocks away to get a pastry and some tea.

As if the stars were aligned and the fates put me exactly where I was meant to be, Rae stood in line ordering. I stopped in my tracks and immediately began to back up slowly. The fates would have to reschedule. 

I bumped into a much older lady making her way into the café. I apologized but she elbowed me in the hip and grumbled something about "useless generation of degenerates." Old lady needs to get laid.

I glared at her as she hobbled her way up to the queue.

"What are you doing here." Rae suddenly stood before me, tea in hand. I took a step back, prepared for anything. It wouldn't shock me if she decided to toss her tea in my face, especially after the nice shiner I supplied her with.

"Hi Rae, didn't see you here."

Rae just raised her brow, still waiting for an answer. Her bruised eye was heavily caked with makeup. She realized I was staring at it and brought her sunglasses down off the top of her head, putting them on.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

"Did you follow me here? God, Bean."

"What?! No!" God, why'd she always do this? The world revolved around Rae and any second it didn't, she'd be sure to fix it.

I could see on her face she was convinced I was now stalking her. 

"Actually, Rae, I was just visiting Michael at the restaurant where I fucked his brains out in the office." Maybe I should have whispered. Now Elbow-y Spinster was glaring at me, shaking her head in disapproval. "Not that it's any of your business. But no, I am not, nor was I ever, following you. I'm here to grab a bite to eat."

"Whatever." 

She moved to walk around me and my hand shot out to stop her. I grabbed her by the elbow, startling her. She dropped her tea and yelped. The tea hit the ground hard, splashing at our feet. Rae was sure to cause an even bigger scene.

"Don't hit me!" She shouted as my hand was wrapped around her arm. I just gawped at her reaction, my jaw nearly grazing the puddle of tea.

"Rae, I'm not!"

She yanked out of my grasp and looked around. Sure enough all eyes were on us. A gentleman stood, prepared to break up any catfights, should they happen. Or maybe he was getting ready to hoot and holler, storing the memories of us wrestling in hot tea in his spank bank for later.

"I just wanted to talk with you, Rae. You're making a scene, as usual."

Through the darkness of her shades, I could still see she squinted her eyes at me as she gritted her teeth. Pretty sure she was trying to shoot lasers into my face. "You owe me a new tea."

"Okay, fine."

After ordering a tea for the both of us, and a lemon cranberry scone for myself, we chose to sit outside since all eyes were on us. I felt guilty when the barista came around the counter with a mop and pail to clean up the floor. Plus, Elbow-y Spinster seriously would not stop scowling my way.

"First of all," I began as Rae cautiously sipped her new tea. "I'm sorry. For your eye, the tea, all of it."

She placed her tea down and fiddled with the lid. 

"Carl has been wanting me to give you a call."

I shared a smile. I liked Carl a lot. Enough to hope he'd dump Rae and find happiness with someone who'll treat him better.

"I... I shouldn't have said what I did. I should have called you. You had every right to be upset with me. And I'm..." Rae looked positively green with sick. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," I laughed. I didn't mean to. I touched my fingers to my lips, but I couldn't stop chuckling. I think this is the first time Rae has every shown remorse. Especially to me.

Again, Rae tried shooting me with her laser eyes, unamused. "Could you be serious for five minutes?"

"I'm sorry! I just can't believe you apologized so easily."

"I know when I'm wrong, okay?"

I smirked and took a bite out of my scone. I had no idea how to bring up the fact that we're sisters. Zilch. I supposed there was no easy way. It was going to have to be quick and hopefully painless like a bandaid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Rae asked, looking disgusted.

"Just thinking. You kind of resemble Mom a bit more than I do." There. I put it out there to test the waters. This could go one of two ways: smooth sailing or sinking straight to the ocean floor.

"I agree. You look more like your dad."

"You know, don't you?"

"Of course I fucking know."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Nice. How long have you known?"

Rae went into a long monologue about her parents, actually our uncle and aunt, arguing and spilling the beans without knowing Rae was listening in. She was ten at the time and she had never told anyone she knew. What a burden to carry.

She shrugged when she saw me pitying her. "It's not a big deal. Happens all the time."

"Rae, I am so sorry. I can't imagine dealing with this all on your own..."

"Don't. Okay? I'm fine. I've always been fine with it. I don't need you feeling sorry for me."

"Sorry, but I have a hard time believing that."

"Tough."

I sighed deeply. This was going nowhere fast.

"So I guess that's that. We both know we're sisters and you're just going to continue to hate me for the rest of my life for something I had absolutely no control over."

Rae shook her head and bit her lip. I knew she was getting emotional and trying to keep herself in check. More and more she was reminding me of our mother. I should have known all along.

"You will never understand what it's like, okay? So don't even bother trying. Really."

I felt like I did have a good understanding. 

Rae continued. "Everyone loves you, Frankie. Everyone wants you. I'm merely an afterthought."

"Everyone? You mean Michael?"

Rae smirked, "Obviously. This may come as a surprise to you, but I was going to marry him, Frankie. Or at least I wanted to. Then out of the blue, he dropped me. So yeah, it fucking hurts to see him with you."

"But Carl?"

"I love Carl, okay? I really do. Michael was my first real love. He's always going to have a piece of my heart. I see he's happy with you. I know he is, but I'm selfish. You know this. I don't share easily. But I'm not fighting for him. He's all yours. I'm happy with Carl." She sank back and looked down. She wiped away a tear that had trailed out from beneath her sunglasses. "I really am, though, Bean."

For the first time in ages, I spotted a genuine smile across her face. She laughed and wiped away another tear.


	22. Dancing Fools

Four months later

 

"Bean!  Bean!  I can't get it up!"

I snickered inappropriately and stopped the second Rae glared at my reaction.

Bobby pins in my mouth, I shuffled over to Rae and held the bottom of her dress down as I tugged the zipper up.  She inhaled deeply, sucking everything in as best as she could.  Finally, it went up completely and she turned around, looking a bit purple in the face.

"Breathe, Rae... It's important that you breathe," I chuckled as the bobby pins fell from my lips.  I caught them against my chest and returned to the mirror to finish pinning my hair up.

Slowly, Rae exhaled, and I watched her subtle round belly push out a bit against the tight fabric of her gown.  

I eyed her carefully as I pinned back my last curl.  "All good?"

"Yep.  I think.  God, I look like a whale."

I frowned and shook my head.  "You look beautiful and Carl is going to have a hard time containing his excitement when he sees you.  You are not a whale.  You look like a beautiful woman, happily pregnant, and happily in love.  That's what everyone wants.  To be happy.  It doesn't matter what you look like, it's how you feel.  And how you feel is far more visible.  It's blinding, even."

Rae slowly smiled and then glared.  "That was cheesy as hell, Bean.  But thank you."

Rae walked down the aisle with both Mom and our uncle.  I wanted to comment on how awkward and wrong it seemed, having a brother and sister give away their daughter, but I kept it to myself.  I was just glad that Mom and Rae were able to clear the air.  

I was surprised at how forgiving Rae had been.  I guess being so angry for most of your life, it has to be refreshing to feel a different emotion finally.  We're still working through our differences, but for the most part, we've become friendly.  I only wished our grandmother could have been around to witness it.  Mom did have a bit of a breakdown after realizing she should have sorted this out years ago.

Standing at the alter with the rest of the bridesmaids, I loved seeing how anxious Carl was.  He couldn't stop fidgeting with his tie, his cuff links, even his hair.  Rae had to take his hands in her own to get him to chill.  

I looked back at the guests and caught Michael's eyes on me.  He slowly smiled and I felt myself clench.  I hadn't seen him in months.  We spoke on the phone now and then, but we remained friends.  I hated it, to be honest.  I missed him like crazy. 

Frank and I dated here and there, but it never became serious.  He dated other women and as much as I wished I could, I just couldn't see other men.  Frank was a friend I dated.  Michael had a big piece of my heart and I wasn't ready to share it with anyone else.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.

I tried not to keep up with his love life.  But as it happens, it's part of the territory when you're a star like Michael is.  I've turned away from many tabloid rags at the grocery store with his face and a pretty blonde plastered over the covers.  It's hard to pretend you don't care.  Because once upon a time, that man was mine and I was his.  

After the lovely ceremony, the other bridesmaids and I helped fan out the train of Rae's gown for pictures.  I stepped back out of the shot and bumped into Michael.

"Hey," I smiled as we hugged.  "You look great."

"Me?" He pulled me back and ran his eyes up and down my length.  "Bean, you look bloody incredible.  I thought it was a no-no to distract from the bride."  He smirked and stuck his hands into his pockets.

Fuh.  I could feel my toes wanting to curl in the confines of my pumps.  It will never make a difference how much time passes between us.  He will always have this effect on me.

The photographer waved me over to join the rest of the wedding party.

"I'm needed," I gestured.  "See you at the reception."

"I'll save you a dance, yeah?"

"Deal." 

I could feel his eyes on my ass as I turned towards everyone else so I definitely walked like he was watching.  I stood in the long line of bridesmaids and smiled for the photographer, genuinely happy, not just to be flirting with Michael, but for Rae.  

Rae, once the enemy, now the somewhat frenemy turned sister.  Her vibrant and fiery red hair contrasted greatly to her stunning white gown.  

I think back to the day I learned we weren't cousins.  That was quite a bomb of a secret for my mom to keep to herself.  I decided then and there to be as truthful as I could possibly be.  Especially when it came to people I cared about.

At the reception, after being announced by the DJ and dancing the obligatory wedding party dance, I found Michael by the bar, because duh, where else?

"You." I poked a finger into his chest.

Michael smirked.  "Me?" He took a swig of his beer and set it down.

"Dance with me."

"Yes ma'am," he purred.

Maroon 5's "Sugar" blared across the reception hall and nearly every single guest and family member was on the dance floor.  Carl awkwardly grinned against his pregnant bride and I let out a boisterous laugh, seeing poor Rae's stunned expression.  She heard me and laughed with me.

Michael took my hand and pulled me to him.  His other hand gently pressed against the small of my back.  He leaned his mouth to my ear and kissed it before loudly whispering, "I've really missed you."

"Good," I pushed him back and we danced.

Michael couldn't take his eyes off of me.  Why did I always feel empowered by his stare?

The song ended and a ballad began.  Michael took my hand and I thought we were leaving the dance floor to get a drink, but he pulled me to him and kissed me.  My palms pressed against his chest and he held me tight.  We swayed, even after our kiss broke.

"I'm sorry I fucked up." Michael said.

I scoffed and smirked.  "You did.  Big time."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Just how drunk are you right now, Michael?" I teased him, tugging on the collar of his dress shirt.

I felt a growl rumble deep in his chest and he held me tighter.  "Trust me, Bean, I'm sober."

"Well you're quite talkative."

"Can you forgive me?"

I stopped moving and we stood still, his arms around me, his hands cupped above my ass.  He stared down into my eyes, no hints of playfulness to be seen.  

My lips parted and his eyes darted to them.  

"Forgive you?"

"I want you back, Frankie.  I love you."

What is air?

My heart pounded so hard, I nearly felt sick.  I'd dreamed of this moment for so long.  I always felt that the reality would be me hanging on his leg, begging him to love me again.

I laughed and kissed him, taking him by surprise.

"You idiot.  Of course I forgive you.  I've always loved you and I always will."

Michael pressed his forehead to mine and he laughed, relief washing over him.  "Fuck, I've never been so nervous before."

I scrunched my nose at him.  "That was you nervous?"  I shook my head and kissed him again.

He lifted me off the floor and squeezed me tight.  "I'm never letting you go again."

 

The End


End file.
